Take Me or Leave Me
by PiaculumDeFatum
Summary: Sequel to Why Can't I? Crossover CSI:xCSI: Miami. RyanxGreg SLASH. Maybe Greg should've just stayed in Vegas...
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N:_**_ Hi everyone! Just so you know, I thoroughly blame everyone who wanted a sequel for this. I was perfectly content to let "Why Can't I" just sit and be over. But then y'all wanted a sequel, and then plot bunny bit and wouldn't let go. Shame. Anyways, a few things before we begin:_

_1. This is once again a songfic in the fact that there are a few lines of a song at the beginning of each chapter. The song this time around is "Take Me or Leave Me" from _Rent.

_2. This is SLASH! If you don't like it, don't read it! _

_3. Once again, the only 'ship in this fic is Greg/Ryan. Also, this fic will not feature the characters from CSI, mainly because this only takes place in Miami._

_4. Rated for language, sexual content (probably nothing smutty, sorry), and just because. Once again, if you feel the rating should change, let me know. Also un-beta'd, so all mistakes are wonderfully mine._

_5. Please read and review! Reviews make me happy! I always ask for no flames, but hey, if you want to waste your valuable time criticizing someone, please feel free._

_6. I will try my absolute hardest to post a new chapter once a week, but school is going to be starting soon, so I make no guarantees.  
_

_7. __CSI: and CSI: Miami belong to Jerry Bruckheimer, CBS and Alliance Atlantis. I own neither the characters nor the places nor yet the song. Only the plot. And the OCs. I can't think of any specific spoilers, but if any come up, I'll post them in the A/N before the chapter._

_8. And now, since this has been the LONGEST A/N ever, on with the show!  
_

**Take Me or Leave Me**_  
_

Chapter One

"_Every single day I walk down the street  
I hear people say 'Baby's so sweet'"_

Ryan Wolfe woke slowly. After lazily turning off the alarm clock, he rolled over to face the still-snoring man next to him. A smile formed slowly on Ryan's face as his sleep-hazed eyes appraised the sleeping form of Greg Sanders. He could hardly believe that this was really happening, that Greg was really his. Yet there they were, in the early hours of the morning in Ryan's apartment in Miami. Just a few weeks ago, Ryan had been alone and miserable in this apartment, but now he had Greg, and it was a beautiful thing.

Greg shifted and groaned, cracking an eyelid only to squeeze it shut again. "Morning already?" he groaned, burrowing deeper into his pillow.

"Yup," said Ryan with a grin. "Time to wake up, sleepyhead." He rolled out of bed and pulled the covers off of Greg, who immediately curled into a ball. "C'mon, you don't want to be late…again."

Greg opened one eye to glare at him. "That was not my fault," he said, rolling over so his back was to Ryan. "You never told me that traffic in Miami was bad at eight o'clock in the morning."

"Sorry, sweetie," said Ryan, suppressing a smile. "I figured you knew about rush hour. I forgot you worked nights before." He paused, then asked, "Were you ever late for work in Vegas?"

"Perpetually," said Greg, sitting up and rubbing his eyes sleepily. "There had better be some coffee waiting for me in the kitchen or I will not be in a good mood."

Ryan just smiled and reached for his robe, accidentally knocking over Greg's iPod. "Hey!" said Greg, suddenly wide-awake. "Be precious with that!"

Stopping and giving him a bewildered look, Ryan asked, "By 'precious' did you mean 'gentle'?"

"Shut up, it's early," was Greg's reply as he stood and stumbled into the kitchen.

Ryan just smiled and shook his head as he followed his lover into the kitchen.

* * *

After breakfast and a quick shower, Ryan stood in front of his closet, looking at his clothes and trying to decide what to wear. Suddenly, a pair of arms snaked around his waist and Greg rested his head on Ryan's shoulder. Ryan glanced at him and asked, "What should I wear?" 

"Doesn't matter," answered Greg. "You look hot in anything."

Ryan couldn't help but smile even as he said dryly, "Thanks, 'cause that helps me so much."

"Wear your green shirt," said Greg, ignoring Ryan's comment. "It makes your eyes look even greener."

"Alright," agreed Ryan, reaching in and pulling it carefully off the hangar, so as not to wrinkle it. He glanced down at Greg's arms and smiled. "You're gonna have to let me go if you want me to get dressed."

"Well, that's the general idea, for me to keep you undressed," murmured Greg as he kissed Ryan's neck.

Ryan laughed, but he pushed Greg away. "Nice try, but if we don't hurry, we'll both be late to work."

"Fine," agreed Greg, reluctantly letting go and stepping back. Ryan set the shirt on the bed and looked back into his closet.

"Which jacket should I wear?" he asked, pulling out two different sports coats and looking at them critically.

"Don't wear a jacket," said Greg. "You should show off your muscles."

Ryan turned around and smiled at him. "That'd be nice, but some of us actually have a dress code we need to follow." He eyed Greg's outfit and added, "And some of us obviously don't."

Greg looked down at his clothes and asked, "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Ryan looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Greg was wearing a back t-shirt with The Who's "The Kids Are Alright" cover on it, untucked and wrinkled, his tag hanging out of the shirt. He wore with it loose jeans that were ripped in one knee, as well as his pair of battered Converse sneakers. Ryan hid a smile and put his arms around Greg's waist. "Nothing's wrong with your outfit," he whispered in Greg's ear.

Greg smiled briefly then pushed Ryan away. "C'mon, Mr. Punctuality. As you were already so kind to point out, we're going to be late."

Ryan just smiled wickedly and leaned in to kiss Greg. "I set the clocks ahead a half an hour," he whispered, "so we'd be ready a half hour earlier."

Greg raised an eyebrow at Ryan and shook his head, a smile spreading over his face. "Well, Mr. Wolfe, we seem to have all this time on our hands," he said slowly, pulling Ryan close to him. "Whatever do you suggest we do?"

Ryan grinned as he started pulling Greg's shirt off. "I don't know, Mr. Sanders," he said, eyes gleaming, "but I think we can find something."

* * *

Just over thirty minutes later, Ryan's department issue car pulled into his usual space at work. Greg's car pulled in beside him, and Greg gave him a small grin and a flirtatious wink. Ryan just shook his head, grinning, and got out of his car. He walked over to Greg's car and waited for him to get out. Greg smiled silently as he closed his car door and took Ryan's hand, squeezing it gently. 

The two walked hand in hand towards the lab when suddenly, a voice called out, "Greggo! Greg baby!"

Both stopped and turned towards the source of the shouting. It was a nicely dressed woman…sort of. At first glance, the man looked like a nicely dressed lady, but he was obviously a cross dresser. He waved enthusiastically at Greg and called, "Greggo, baby, come give me some sugah!"

Greg laughed aloud and, rolling his eyes at Ryan, went and gave the man a hug. "Mike, how are you?"

"Oh, you know me, honey, I'm always good," laughed Mike. He looked over at Ryan appraisingly. "And just who is that tasty morsel?"

Ryan walked to the two of them and gave Mike a smile. "Ryan Wolfe," he said, offering his hand. "Greg's boyfriend."

Mike declined shaking his hand, instead pulling him into a hug. "Please, call me Michelle," said Mike/Michelle, batting his eyelashes at Ryan.

"Er…alright…Michelle," stammered Ryan. He glanced at Greg and asked, "How do you two know each other?"

"Oh, Mikey's an old friend from high school," said Greg quickly. He flashed Mike/Michelle a grin. "From when I lived in San Francisco. And while everyone else was gay and a cross-dresser, it wasn't until I caught Mikey trying on his sister's cheerleading outfit that I figured out he didn't quite travel the straight and narrow."

"And, of course, then I tried to shove my tongue down his throat," continued Mike/Michelle cheerfully, "and then he punched me in the face. It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I found out he apparently swings both ways."

"Well, it wasn't until a few weeks ago that **I** found out I swing both ways," laughed Greg. "And you can thank that guy right there for that."

"Is that so?" said Mike, fixing Ryan with a piercing stare. Ryan tried not to feel intimidated as the other man narrowed his eyes before smiling with a smile that strongly reminded Ryan of a cobra. "Well, he must've been pretty special to change you around, Greggy."

"Oh, he is," said Greg, still grinning. He threw his arm around Mike's shoulders and turned back to Ryan. "Anyway, when I moved to Miami, I remembered he lived here too, so I looked him up."

"And the rest," said Mike/Michelle with a wink, "is history." He kissed Greg on the cheek, lingering far too long, before shooting Ryan a triumphant look that made Ryan's heart plunge.

"Well," said Ryan in a falsely-cheerful voice, "it's been nice meeting you, but we're gonna be late for work, so I guess this is good-bye."

"Oo, territorial," teased Mike/Michelle, still looking triumphant. "I like that in a guy. Besides," he added conspiratorially, "you'll need to be territorial to keep this guy around. He's a notorious wanderer."

"Hey, no fair!" protested Greg. "I'm standing right here, you know!"

"Oh, I know," said Mike, winking one last time at Ryan. He put his arms around Greg's waist. "I'll see you around, hun," he said before kissing him on the cheek again.

Ryan's smile was rather fixed as Mike/Michelle walked away. Greg reached out and took his hand. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked concernedly.

Ryan smiled slightly and shook his head. "Nothing, I promise. Now, c'mon, let's go." Greg didn't look convinced, but he dropped it, simply squeezing Ryan's hand reassuringly as they entered the crime lab hand in hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N:_**_ So, on to chapter two...not altogether too much to say...I'm pretty sure I covered it in the ginormous A/N last time. Usual disclaimer applies. Please read and review!_

Chapter Two

"_Ever since puberty,  
Everyone's stared at me  
Boys, girls, I can't help it baby"_

When Greg had started at the Miami-Dade crime lab, Ryan hadn't known what to expect. The department wouldn't approve him for a CSI, but they hired him as head DNA tech. Despite Greg's love for being a CSI, he really was in his element doing DNA again. He blasted rock music at inhumanly loud volumes and air-drummed with test tubes. He could come up with a full DNA profile in half an hour, and could even pull a full profile from the most menial shred of epithelial.

And he was happy, which, of course, made Ryan very happy. Ryan had been worried about Greg fitting in at MDPD, but those worries had been quite unfounded, as proven by the first day.

Greg had strolled in like he owned the place. When he saw Horatio, he had shaken his hand almost reverently and said, "Lieutenant Caine, it's great to see you again. Thank you for the opportunity to work here," making Horatio beam at him. Ryan would've thought that Greg was a suck-up if he hadn't of, later that very day, joined in the betting on how many times H was going to take his sunglasses off and put them back on.

Anyway, Greg had next run into Calleigh, and he greeted her by kissing her hand and saying, "Miss Duquesne, always a pleasure," causing Calleigh to giggle and blush. Then he had given Eric a high-five and bellowed "Delko!" much to the Cuban's amusement.

In other words, everyone loved Greg. Even Valera did, despite the fact that Greg had technically been hired as her superior. Of course, that might be because after reading so much about Greg's work in a few forensic journals, she viewed him as almost a celebrity.

Greg was just so easy to get along with. He was the fun guy, the great guy, the guy everyone loved, the guy everyone wanted to be friends with.

Ryan was proud of him, and that pride glowed in Ryan's eyes that day as Greg gave his hand one last squeeze before sashaying to the DNA lab, already humming a random song off-key. Ryan grinned and shook his head before turning and heading to the locker room.

* * *

Ryan sat in one of the evidence rooms, processing materials from a crime scene. As he held a piece of cloth under the magnifying glass, Calleigh knocked on the door and walked in. "hey," she said, surveying the table. "I was just going to take the biological samples to Greg. Do you have anything to take to him?" 

"Mm…not yet," said Ryan slowly, using the tweezers to pick a thread off the cloth. "I'll take it down myself if I find something."

Calleigh flashed him a grin. "You just want to see your boyfriend," she teased.

Ryan shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, pretty much," he agreed.

She laughed. "Well, who can blame you? He's totally hot!"

Fake glaring at her, Ryan growled, "Keep your hands off him. He's mine."

Calleigh just laughed as she headed out of the room. "Yeah, but the question is, are you his?" she asked teasingly before she left.

Ryan made a face at her retreating back as he turned back to his work, but Calleigh's parting words kept echoing in his head. _"The question is, are you his?"_ They mixed with Mike's words from that morning. _"You'll need to be territorial to keep this guy around. He's a notorious wanderer."_ Ryan had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he tried to dispel. Greg loved him as much as he loved Greg…didn't he?

Ryan groaned and closed his eyes. Calleigh had been joking…she wasn't serious. It wasn't as if she knew something he didn't. There again, Calleigh did seem to be on top of all the department gossip. Maybe she…

Standing abruptly, Ryan quickly bagged the piece of cloth he had been examining and strode from the room towards the DNA lab. He was about to go in when he heard Calleigh giggle, so he paused out of sight, listening.

"Greg!" she almost squealed, in a very un-Calleigh-like manner. "Give me that! I need it!"

"Nuh-uh," answered Greg, a laugh evident in his voice. "You didn't say the magic word."

"Please?" begged Calleigh.

"Nope!" said Greg cheerfully. "Wrong magic word…but nice try."

"GREG!" she almost screamed.

Greg started laughing, as did she, and he called through his laughter, "Help, rape! I'm being raped!"

A muscle in Ryan's jaw twitched and he stepped into the room. Calleigh was reaching around Greg's waist, trying desperately to get a piece of paper from his, which he, of course, was keeping just out of her grasp. "Ahem," said Ryan, clearing his throat.

Greg turned to face him, still laughing, his eyes shining with humor. "Ryan, help me," he said, barely suppressing his mirth. "She's assaulting me."

"Uh-huh," said Ryan skeptically, not smiling.

Greg's smile faded a little and he straightened, concern in his eyes. "Ryan—"

"A-ha!" said Calleigh, grabbing the paper from Greg and cheering triumphantly. She stopped when she saw Ryan. "Oh, hey," she said, smiling at him as she flattened her hair. "Did you get anything from the cloth?"

Ryan tore his eyes from Greg and looked at her. "Um…yeah," he said, as if just remembering. "I was going to have Greg analyze it for epithelials. And there's a stain here that may be blood. I can't get anything off it, but I'll have Greg kick it back to trace if it's not blood."

"Great," said Calleigh in her normal, cheerful voice. "I've got to get these results to Horatio." She started to leave, then turned back and stuck her tongue out at Greg.

When the door shut behind her, Greg asked quietly, "What's wrong, Ryan?'

Shaking his head, Ryan tossed the bagged cloth on Greg's table. "It's nothing. I'm just tired. Run this for me, will you?"

"Yeah, I will," said Greg, still looking at him. "Are you sure everything's ok? You seem upset about something."

Giving him a tight smile, Ryan said, "I'll talk to you about it later, alright?"

Greg nodded, turning to his equipment to start running the sample. Ryan nodded as well and left, heart still sinking. Today was not going to be a good day.

* * *

Ryan's bad mood only intensified as the day went on. Firstly, he had a Jane Doe with seemingly no identifying features. Then, some rookie cop had contaminated one of the few pieces of evidence at the scene. Finally, he had walked past the A/V lab only to see Greg and Cooper looking awfully cozy as they giggled at something on one of the computers. 

Ryan groaned and sank onto the bench in the lock room, resting his head against the cool metal of his locker. He desperately wished the pounding headache he had would subside. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by Greg's laugh echoing through the locker room.

Ryan groaned again and stood, heading in the direction of the laugh. There was Greg, standing a bit too close to Eric. Greg was chuckling as he fingered the collar of Eric's shirt. Erick was laughing as well.

"So Delko," Greg was saying, "is this your secret for winning women? Polyester?"

"Hey man, whatever works," grinned Eric, his dark eyes glowing with amusement.

Greg grinned as well before leaning in and whispering conspiratorially, "Remind me never to take fashion advice from you."

"Sure, but if there ever comes a day when you come back and beg for my secrets to winning women, I'll remember this," said Delko, winking at Greg.

Greg winked back at him. "I'll hold you to that."

Ryan swallowed hard and strode from the locker room. "I'm going home," he said shortly to Greg.

Greg shared a look with Delko before asking, "Ryan, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," snapped Ryan.

"Ryan—" started Greg, but Ryan cut him off.

"We'll talk about it at home," he growled before stalking out, leaving a very confused Greg behind.


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N:_**_ And the angst continues...don't worry, next chapter will get better. Many thanks to all who reviewed! Remember, reviews make me happy. Happiness makes me post sooner. Savvy? Usual disclaimer applies, and ONWARD!_

Chapter Three

"_So be kind  
And don't lose your mind  
Just remember that I'm your baby"_

Ryan tried to calm down as he paced around the apartment, but he was finding it rather difficult. Greg was flirt; Ryan knew that. But he didn't have to flirt with any human with a pulse. Ryan wasn't the jealous type, he really wasn't; he just knew that he and Greg had to lay down some ground rules.

The door banged open and Greg stepped in, hiding something behind his back. He smiled hesitantly at Ryan before pulling a bouquet of red roses from behind his back with a flourish. "For you," he said simply.

Not even Ryan's anger could stop his heart from melting as he took the roses. He smiled slowly. "Thank you," he said. "Was there a reason for these?"

Greg grinned sheepishly. 'Well, I figured I did something to be in the doghouse, so I thought I might as well try to atone for whatever it was that I did."

Ryan's smile became quite fixed as his eyes narrowed slightly. "So you don't know what you did?" he asked, voice deceptively calm.

Greg's grin faded slightly. "No, Ryan, I don't," he said, trying not to sound exasperated. "I may joke about familial connections with the occult, but I'm not a mind reader."

Jaw clenched, Ryan turned away from Greg. "Well, if you don't know what you did, I'm not going to tell you."

Groaning loudly, Greg pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can we please not do this right now?" he pleaded. "I had a hellish day and this is not exactly helping."

Ryan whirled around to face him, eyes narrowed in anger. "Oh yeah, you had such a hard day," he said scathingly. "I don't know how you possibly managed to find time to hang out with Calleigh, Delko and Cooper."

Arching an eyebrow at him, Greg asked calmly, "Am I not allowed to have friends now? Is that what you're mad at me about?"

Ryan shrugged airily. "You should know what you did."

Greg threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "For Christ's sake, Ryan, just tell me what the Hell I did! You sound like my high school girlfriend!"

Tears welled in Ryan's eyes. "Oh, so now you're making fun of how I feel?"

Sighing, Greg stepped towards him, taking both his hands in one of his. "I'm not making fun of you, baby, I promise," he whispered, running his thumb over Ryan's cheek. "I just can't fix whatever the problem is if I don't know what it is." He looked him square in the eye. "Let me fix it, Ryan. I want to fix this."

Blushing and looking away, Ryan said quietly, "You'll think it's dumb."

"No I won't," whispered Greg. "I promise I won't."

Ryan looked back up at Greg. "Ok…I'm mad because you were flirting today."

Greg looked at Ryan and blinked. "Um…ok…" he said slowly. "Um...if you say so."

Ryan looked back at Greg, eyes growing darker in frustration. "You were," he said defensively. "You flirted an awful lot today."

"Sure," said Greg, still looking at Ryan as if he thought Ryan was hallucinating. "Um, could you…maybe tell me who I was flirting with? Cuz, um, I don't remember flirting with anyone today."

Ryan's jaw dropped open. "You don't remember flirting with anyone?" he asked incredulously. "How can you not remember flirting with anyone? You flirted with practically everyone!"

Greg fixed Ryan with his best I-don't-know-what-the-hell-you're-talking-about-but-I'm-going-to-smile-and-nod-and-pretend-I-do-anyway smile. "Ryan, hun, I'm sure you may have seen something that you misconstrued as flirting, but I promise you, I didn't consciously flirt with anyone. Maybe if you just told me who you thought I was flirting with…"

"**Thought** you were flirting with?" exploded Ryan, jaw tight with fury. "Ok, well how about Calleigh? And Cooper? And Delko? Hell, even Mike or Michelle or whatever he calls himself?"

Greg's eyes darkened, a dangerous sign, and he said slowly, "I'm sorry that my friendship with Calleigh and Dan and Eric and Mikey seemed like flirting to you, but I promise you, I wasn't flirting with any of them."

"Bullshit!" exclaimed Ryan. "I saw you. How about you and Calleigh in the lab, huh? And you and Cooper giggling like teenage girls over something? And what was with you _fingering_ Delko's shirt like some girl trying to pick him up at a bar?"

Jaw clenched, Greg said calmly, but in a dangerous tone, "My working relationship with everyone may be a little lighter than yours, Ryan, but that does not mean that I was flirting with them."

"Oh, so I suppose you and Calleigh's impromptu tickling match was only so you could deliver her results, then," said Ryan scathingly.

"Oh, I'm **_sorry_**!" exploded Greg. "I didn't realize that I was under scrutiny every time I did something today. Just so you know, when I was delivering results to Horatio, our conversation didn't once stray from the case. Oh, and when I went down to talk to Alexx, I promise I wasn't trying to get in her pants."

Ryan sighed. "Greg, that's not what I meant—" he started, but Greg cut him off.

"Regardless of whether or not that's what you meant—and that's debatable at the moment—that is sure as hell what you just said," said Greg icily. He turned away and said stiffly, "I'm going out." He turned back and looked at Ryan, hurt evident in his eyes. "Just so we're clear, I'm not going to go try and hit on someone."

He grabbed his keys off the table and left, not even pausing as Ryan called, "Greg, wait!" The door slammed behind Greg and Ryan sank onto the couch, head in hands. What had he done?


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N:_**_ Sorry last chapter was so short...this one's a bit longer. The next will be quite longer than both. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed thus far. You guys rock! Usual disclaimer applies.  
_

Chapter Four

"_Take me for what I am  
Who I was meant to be  
And if you give a damn  
Take me, baby, or leave me"_

The vibration of Ryan's cell phone on the table brought him from his thoughts. "Hello?" he said listlessly into it.

"Ryan? Hey, it's Calleigh."

"Oh, hey," said Ryan, still unenthusiastic.

"Everything ok?" asked Calleigh, concern evident in her voice. "You sound upset. Did you and Greg have a fight?" Ryan just grunted in response. Calleigh sighed. "Ryan, please tell me what's bugging you. I'm your friend. I want to help, but I can't if you don't tell me what's wrong."

Her words were so hauntingly close to Greg's that Ryan began to cry softly into the phone. Calleigh's voice softened. "Ryan, are you crying?" she asked gently.

"Yeah," he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Ok, that's it, I'm coming over," announced Calleigh. "I'm going to make you some hot cocoa with my secret ingredient—alcohol— and we're going to chat and call Greg horrible names and get drunk and swear off men forever."

That managed to bring a small smile to Ryan's face as he chuckled weakly, but it faded as he sniffled, "Calleigh, I think I've lost him for good."

"I doubt that," said Calleigh gently. "But tell me what happened. We'll try and work it out."

Still sniffling, Ryan poured out the whole story, from Mike this morning to Calleigh's comment to Calleigh and Greg's tickle-fest to Cooper to Eric to it all finally exploding. Calleigh listened to the whole story without saying anything except for the occasional sympathetic murmur. When he had finished, she sighed deeply. "Ryan, I'm sorry."

He frowned in confusion. "Why?"

"I didn't realize how much my comment meant to you. I was teasing, joking around. I really didn't mean anything by it."

"I know," admitted Ryan softly. "It just acted as a catalyst for the jealousy I had already been feeling."

"Yeah…" said Calleigh. She chuckled. "Ryan, you are probably the only person I know who has honestly used the word 'catalyst' in regard to feelings." Suddenly, her tone became business-like. "But what are you doing sitting around? Go find him!"

"Calleigh, I don't know where he is! Hell, I don't even know where to start looking."

"First things first," said Calleigh. "Did he take his car or go on foot?"

Ryan looked outside. "His car's still here, so he obviously walked."

"Right, so he can't have gone far…"

Nodding, Ryan thought of all the places he could be. "I've got it!" he said excitedly. "There's this little park not too far from here that Greg loves…I'll bet he went there."

"Well, go get him, Tiger!" said Calleigh. Her tone softened. "Seriously Ryan, go find him. You two are meant to be together."

* * *

Ryan wasted no time in leaving, pausing only to grab a light jacket since it was a bit chilly out. The park wasn't that far from the apartment complex, and he practically jogged to it. It was a nice little place complete with a playground that consisted of a slide, jungle gym and some swings. Ryan would bet anything that this was where Greg was; Greg still loved playing on the jungle gym like a little kid. 

Sure enough, Greg sat dejectedly on a swing, looking for all the world like a boy much younger than his thirty-one years. The moonlight was broken by the branches of a palm tree, casting flitting shadows over his face. He looked up as he heard Ryan approaching, his dark eyes gleaming in the silvery light, full of silent hurt and accusation.

Ryan didn't say anything at first, just standing there watching him and trying to resist the urge to take him in his arms and hold him. Finally he cleared his throat and asked quietly, "May I sit down?"

Greg looked away and shrugged jerkily in assent. Ryan sat down on the swing next to him, gently scraping the sand with his foot. They sat like that for a few moments until, once again, Ryan broke the silence. "Look, I'm sorry—"

"Don't," said Greg quietly, cutting him off. "Don't say that you're sorry. It doesn't solve anything, especially when it's not true."

"Greg, it is true," insisted Ryan, looking him in the eye. "I'm sorry for what I said. I'm sorry—"

"For not trusting me?" finished Greg, eyes downcast. "For not believing that I loved you?"

"I never doubted your love for me!" protested Ryan. "Never!"

"Yet you all but accused me of cheating on you," pointed out Greg. "If you didn't doubt me, how could you even think that?" He turned away from him, voice thick with tears. "Your words betray you, Ryan. You meant what you said today. You honestly thought that I cared so little about you that I'd cheat on you."

"It wasn't like that," muttered Ryan, eyes sad. "I just had to know you were mine."

Greg looked at him and said gently, "Babe, I am yours. You know that. I love you, and you should never doubt that."

Ryan swallowed hard. "I know," he whispered miserably. "I'm just so afraid to lose you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere," said Greg with a small smile. He pulled Ryan close to him and kissed him on the top of his head. "I promise you that." His lips met Ryan's with a sudden ferocity that almost knocked Ryan off his swing. Ryan kissed him back, just as fierce, wrapping his arms around Greg as best he could with the swing there. They broke off, only moving a few centimeters apart. "I told you before that I was committed to this," murmured Greg, his breath warm on Ryan's cheek, "and I swear to you, I still am." He sat up and looked Ryan dead in the eye. "But if we're gonna make this work, there has to be some changes, alright?"

Ryan nodded mutely, pulling Greg close again and resting his head on Greg's shoulder. Greg kissed him once more on the temple before standing up. "C'mon," he said, reaching down and grabbing Ryan's hand to help him up. "Let's go home."

The two headed back to the apartment, hand in hand.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:** So, I promised a longer chapter, and here she is. Over 2000 words, friends. A few things before we start. I don't own _Snakes on a Plane_, Conan O'Brien, _The Sting_, Kelly Clarkson, Avril Lavigne, Shania Twain, Ryan Cabrera, and of course, CSI: and CSI: Miami. In the portion of the song before the chapter begins, "his" is in parentheses because it was originally "her" and FFN won't do brackets. Oh, and Hooker and Gondorff are Robert Redford's and Paul Newman's characters from _The Sting_. Oh, and since the stupid line thingy isn't working, when you see "_GREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVER", _that indicates a break in the story. Anyways, enjoy! _

Chapter Five

"_A tiger in a cage  
Can never see the sun  
This diva needs (his) stage  
Baby—let's have fun!"_

The next morning, Ryan rolled over in bed to find Greg actually awake. "Hey," whispered Ryan, kissing him lightly on the lips.

Greg smiled. "Morning, Beautiful."

Even though Greg had said it before, Ryan didn't think he would ever get used to hearing Greg call him beautiful. He blushed and looked down. "How're you this morning?" he asked.

"Meh," said Greg, closing his eyes and yawning. "Tired." He opened one eye and smiled slightly. "Fighting with you is emotionally exhausting."

Chuckling slightly, Ryan snuggled deeper into Greg's arms, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. "Why're you up so early this morning? Normally I have to use lewd, sexual favors to get you out of bed."

"Well, you know I'd never turn down lewd sexual favors," grinned Greg, his dark eyes sparkling, "but I was actually up thinking about stuff."

"Mm…stuff, huh? Care to enlighten me about this 'stuff'?" asked Ryan, running his hands through Greg's hair.

"I was thinking about our fight," said Greg, staring off into space. "I think I know why we fought."

"Oo, turning into Dr. Phil on me, are you?" teased Ryan.

"Yeah, whatever," said Greg, rolling his eyes. He turned back to Ryan, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "We haven't had time to connect lately. We've both been so wrapped up in work and adjusting to living together that we simply weren't able to be together and talk together and just lay here together like this."

Ryan smiled and kissed Greg's jaw. "So astute this early in the morning? I'm impressed." He paused as he traced Greg's chest with his finger. "But the sex is good."

Laughing, Greg kissed Ryan on the lips. "The sex is great. But I'm not talking about sex and you know it."

Nodding slowly, Ryan asked, 'So, what do you think we need to do?"

"Well, I think we need to find a way to reconnect. You know, take a little mini-vacation for a day or two or something. No work, no stress. Just you and me."

"And sex."

Greg laughed aloud. "Yes, and sex." He shot Ryan a sideways glance. "God, you're turning into me. I've rubbed off on you, and not in a good way, either."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Ok, so, vacation…what do you propose we do on this mini-vacation?'

"We don't need to have a plan," said Greg patiently, tracing Ryan's thigh with his finger. "That's kinda the whole point of a vacation."

Ryan looked dismayed. "No plan?" he said, trying not to sound panicked.

Frowning, Greg said, "Well, we'll have a general outline; it just won't be planned out minute by minute." Ryan nodded, calmer, and Greg rubbed his shoulders soothingly. "Relax, baby. You're on vacation."

"What, now?"

Greg nodded and grinned. "Yup. I already called H. He was more than happy to give us some vacation time for today and tomorrow….especially since you've got some vacation days saved up from when you were on patrol."

Looking embarrassed, Ryan quickly changed the subject. "Well, since we're on vacation, what's your plan for today?"

Still grinning, Greg kissed Ryan's neck seductively. "Well, I thought we might start with some breakfast in bed," he whispered, dropping to kiss Ryan's chest.

Ryan grinned as well. "I'm not at all opposed to that idea. Not at all opposed."

GREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVER

A few hours later, Greg and Ryan sat in the living room. Well, Ryan sat; Greg lounged, stretched out full-length on the couch. He was flipping channels on the TV while Ryan read the newspaper. After several minutes, Greg sighed and rolled over so he was facing Ryan. "I'm bored," he whined.

Ryan looked over the top of his newspaper and raised one eyebrow. "Hi, Bored, nice to meet you, I'm Ryan," he said dryly.

Rolling his eyes, Greg sat up. 'Ryan, I'm serious. I'm totally bored. We should do something."

Ryan folded his newspaper carefully and set it down on the coffee table, unconsciously centering it. "Well, what would you like to do?"

"I dunno," said Greg, staring up at the ceiling. He sighed again. "Is there anything good playing at the movie theatre?"

"Let me see." Ryan unfolded his newspaper and flipped to the page that had the movie times on it. "Hm…seems to be crap, crap, crap, crap and mega-crap." He threw Greg a look. "I mean, unless you really want to see _Snakes on a Plane_."

"Nah," said Greg, smile spreading over his face. "I'm far more partial to _Sharks on a Tractor_."

Ryan laughed, recognizing the reference from a recent episode of Conan O'Brien. He shook his head. "You know, I actually respected Samuel L. Jackson as an actor before this…Anyway," he said, looking back at the newspaper, "there may be something worth seeing…you know that historic movie theatre downtown?"

"The ancient one that only plays old films?"

"Yeah…they're showing _The Sting_ today."

"_The Sting_?" mused Greg aloud. "That movie's not that old."

Ryan shot him a grin. "You would know, you old fogey."

Greg glared at him. "I am not that much older than you!" he hissed, pride clearly wounded. Ryan just laughed. Sinking back into the cushions, Greg pouted, "Are we gonna go or not?"

Pausing to think, Ryan smiled slowly. "Robert Redford and Paul Newman? Hell yes we're going."

"Awesome!" cheered Greg, previous consternation instantly forgotten. "I gotta go do my hair. What time does the movie start at?"

"It starts in…" Ryan checked his watch. "Half an hour." He groaned aloud. "We're never gonna make it in time."

Grinning evilly, Greg jingled his keys. "Not the way I drive."

GREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVER

Twenty minutes later, Ryan and his stomach were seriously regretting allowing Greg to drive. After they found a parking spot, Ryan staggered from the car, holding his stomach. "I think I'm gonna puke," he muttered, shooting Greg a dark look.

Greg just chuckled as he pulled Ryan towards the theatre. "C'mon, we're gonna be late," he said. He gave Ryan a sideways glance and smirked. "Especially if you want to get some popcorn."

Ryan, if at all possible, paled even more. He gave Greg a murderous glare and growled, "I will ralph all over you, Sanders."

Still grinning, Greg paid for their tickets and steered Ryan into the theatre. "'Ralph'? Such a technical term, Wolfe." He sat Ryan down in a seat. "Sit tight, I'll be right back."

Opening his mouth to protest, Ryan shrugged at Greg's retreating back and settled into his chair. As the opening credits began to roll and Scott Joplin's "The Entertainer" started, Greg came back, sliding into the seat next to Ryan. "Here," he whispered, offering Ryan a Styrofoam cup.

Ryan took it and looked at him quizzically. "It's Sprite," said Greg softly, "to help settle your stomach."

"Aw," said Ryan, unable to contain himself. He took it from Greg and kissed him gently on the cheek. "That was so sweet of you. Thanks." Giving him a mock-stern look, he added, "Though next time I'll settle for a Dramamine."

Greg took his hand and squeezed it wordlessly as they both turned their attention to the screen as the movie began.

GREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVER

After the movie finished, Greg and Ryan strolled hand-in-hand through downtown Miami. Greg sighed contentedly as he looked around. "It's times like these when I see the lights and hear the traffic and the ocean's nowhere in sight that I can almost believe, just for a moment, that I'm back in Vegas."

Ryan looked up at him. "Do you miss it much?" he asked softly, a small twist of guilt flitting across his face.

Greg shrugged, not looking at him. "Sometimes," he whispered, eyes taking on a faraway look. "Sometimes when I just want to hear Nicky's laugh or Grissom's random quotes or Warrick's dry humor. When a case is tough and all I want to do is just call Catherine or Sara and complain. When I miss Hodges' snarkiness and Archie's nerdiness." He looked back at Ryan and smiled gently. "But what I gained is worth a whole lot more than what I lost." He squeezed his hand gently and changed the subject. "So tell me truthfully, who do I remind you of more: Hooker or Gondorff?"

"Hm," said Ryan, thinking. "The ambitious rookie eager to prove himself or the suave pro, calm and confident." He looked at Greg seriously. "I'd have to go with Gondorff. To me, you're so confident in everything you do."

"Really?" asked Greg, frowning. He shrugged, smiling a small, lopsided grin. "I guess I'm just so used to be the goof-off rookie that I forget that in the DNA lab, I am experienced."

"Speak for yourself," grumbled Ryan bitterly. "I think to everyone, I'll always be the rookie, Speed's replacement."

Greg frowned at him, taken aback. "You're so much more than Speed's replacement!" he protested. "You should see yourself, Ryan. You're so good at what you do…it's like second nature to you. And you have found your place in the Crime Lab family, your own place, not trying to fill Speed's." Ryan nodded slowly, and Greg gave him a grin and a light punch on the arm. "But remember, you'll always be my little rookie."

"Thanks Greg," said Ryan sarcastically.

Suddenly, Greg stopped walking. "Look!" he exclaimed, pointing across the street. "A karaoke bar!" He looked at Ryan pleadingly. "Can we go?" he begged. "Please, please, please, please, please?"

"Fine," groaned Ryan. "Just don't expect me to sing."

"Don't worry," grinned Greg, already pulling Ryan across the street. "I'll do enough singing for the both of us."

GREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVER

An hour and several drinks later, Ryan and Greg had suffered through several slurred biker renditions of such classics as "Since U Been Gone", "My Happy Ending" and "Man! I Feel Like a Woman". The thoroughly drunk bikers had now vacated the premises and the mike was open for the taking. The DJ called out, "Come on, now, don't be shy! Who wants to be the next victim?"

Greg stood up. "No, don't," hissed Ryan, blushing.

Just grinning in response, Greg headed to the stage, stopping only to confer briefly with the DJ. He climbed onto the stage, walking up to the microphone. "Hi everyone. My name's Greg, and this song goes out to my special someone. You know who you are." He winked roguishly and Ryan buried his head in his hands, blushing furiously.

The beginning guitar cords began and then Greg started singing. He had a surprisingly good voice, soft and sweet, and the entire bar fell silent, mesmerized.

"I won't talk  
I won't breathe  
I won't move til you finally see  
That you belong with me  
You might think  
I don't look  
But deep inside the corner of my mind  
I'm attached to you

I'm weak, it's true  
Cuz I'm just scared to know the answer  
Do you want me too?  
Cuz my heart keeps falling faster

I've waited all my life  
To cross this line  
To the only thing that's true  
So I will not hide  
It's time to try  
Anything to be with you  
All my life I've waited  
This is true

You don't know  
What you do  
Every time you walk into the room  
I'm afraid to move

I'm weak, it's true  
I'm just scared to know the ending  
Do you see me too?  
Do you even know you met me?

I've waited all my life  
To cross this line  
To the only thing that's true  
So I will not hide  
It's time to try  
Anything to be with you  
All my life I've waited  
This is true

I know when I go  
I'll be on my way to you  
The way that's true

I've waited all my life  
To cross this line  
To the only thing that's true  
So I will not hide  
It's time to try  
Anything to be with you  
All my life I've waited  
This is true"

Greg finished to tremendous applause and bowed dramatically with a flourish. Jumping off the stage, he headed straight to Ryan and kissed him in front of everyone. Ryan laughed and took his hand, leading him out of the bar.

They walked slowly back to where the car was parked. Ryan hand his arm wrapped around Greg's waist, his head resting on his shoulder. Greg hugged him to him, leaning his head onto the top of Ryan's. Ryan looked up at him. "So…" he said slowly. "What're we going to do tomorrow?"

"Well…I was thinking we might go surfing…" said Greg, hiding a grin at Ryan's dismayed face.

"Aw, hell no," groaned Ryan, closing his eyes at the last disastrous memory. "Not again."


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N:** A million and a half apologies for the delay on this chapter. Life has been very busy lately, and hence I don't know when the next one's coming either. I apologize for that as well. This chappie contains mild Erica-hating. Since the line thing still hates me, "_GREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVER" _denotes a break in the chapter. Oh, and just as a small, pissed off note: If you have the audacity to leave a comment saying that you think Greg/Ryan or slash in general is the grossest thing ever, then at least have the balls to sign your name. Stupid punks. Anyway... Usual disclaimer applies as always. Voila!_

Chapter Six

"_You are the one I choose  
Folks would kill to fill your shoes  
You love the limelight too, now baby"_

Greg moaned and set his head on his desk in the DNA lab. Three hours left til his shift was over, and he had nothing to do. No active cases, no backlog, nothing. He was even caught up on his God-forsaken paperwork and had been reduced to shooting paper ball free throws for better part of the past hour.

He groaned again and was about to start bashing his head into his desk when a knock sounded on the door. "Mr. Sanders," said Horatio, twisting his sunglasses in his hands. "I have a dilemma. I have a DB at the beach, but Eric, Calleigh and Mr. Wolfe are all finishing up a case. I need another CSI."

Greg blinked at him and shrugged. "I wish I could help you, h, but I really don't see what I can do."

Horatio smiled warmly at him. "You are still a fully qualified CSI, are you not, Mr. Sanders?" At Greg's enthusiastically hopeful nod, Horatio jerked his head toward the locker room. "Grab an extra kit and me at the Hummer. Mr. Wolfe said he'd meet us at the crime scene in twenty minutes."

"Consider me there, H," said Greg, grinning from ear to ear. He crumpled a scratch piece of paper and shot it towards the trash can. It made it and Greg grinned even wider. His boredom was alleviated, he was getting to be a CSI again…could his day get any better?

GREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVER

Twenty minutes after Greg and Horatio left for the crime scene, just after they had finished the initial walkthrough, Ryan arrived. Ducking under the yellow tape, he kissed Greg quickly on the cheek before asking, "What have we got?"

"Male DB, John Doe," responded Greg promptly, pausing to photograph something. "Single gunshot wound to the head. Initial trajectory doesn't indicate suicide. Horatio thinks it may be connected to those recent sniper cases."

Ryan nodded slowly. "So, what do you need help with?"

"Me personally?" asked Greg, looking up at him. "Nothing. My job is pretty much go where H points and take pictures."

"I'm sorry," said Ryan sympathetically.

Greg gave him a strange look. "What're you sorry for? I love being back in the field. Sure, I make twice as much in the lab, but I love working in the field. You know that."

Ryan just shook his head and smiled to himself. Only Greg would be that excited about taking pictures. "Alright, well, I'm gonna go ask H what he needs help with."

Greg gave him a small half-wave and bent to photograph a footprint in the sand, Ryan went over to where Horatio was and stood next to him as he examined the body. "Mr. Wolfe," said Horatio, putting his sunglasses back on. "Process the body so Alexx can take it, please."

"You got it, H," said Ryan, kneeling next to the corpse. He pulled a pair of gloves on and looked closely at the vic's head. "No bruising or burn marks next to the entry wound, so probably not shot at close range." He looked up to see Horatio watching Greg. "Horatio?"

Horatio looked back at him. "Mr. Sanders certainly seems in his element, doesn't he?" he remarked.

Ryan smiled slowly. "Yeah, he does."

Nodding once, Horatio said, "I'll see if I can work something out so he can join us in the field full-time."

Surprised, Ryan looked up at Horatio. "Really?" he asked, grinning. "Greg would love that." He paused. "But wouldn't there be a problem since Greg and I…" He trailed off.

Horatio just smiled at him. "Leave that to me." He looked up and sighed. "The press has already got wind of this case," he said, pointing at the news vans arriving at the scene. "I'm going to go with Frank to do some damage control."

"Alright," said Ryan, looking back down at the body.

Greg joined him, kneeling next to him. "The press got here awfully fast, didn't they?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Ryan.

"Well, the snipings are headline news," said Ryan with a shrug. "I'm sure they're just trying to get the story before everyone else does."

Nodding slowly, Greg scanned the gathering crowd. "Hey, who's that reporter over there?" he asked, pointing at a blonde woman. "She looks familiar."

Ryan shielded his eyes and looked. When he saw who it was, his face darkened. "That's Erica Sikes," he said shortly.

Greg gave him a sideways look and a grin. "Oo, you two have a history! Excellent." He paused, brow furrowing in confusion. "But you said you were gay."

Smiling at Greg, Ryan shrugged. "Denial isn't just a river in Africa." The smile slid off his face as he looked back at Erica. "Be careful with her," he warned. "She'll use you and abuse you just to get another story."

Chuckling and rolling his eyes, Greg said drolly, "Yes, Mom, I'll be careful." Smirking at Ryan, he stood, brushing his jeans off. "I'm gonna go examine the perimeter, see if I can find anything."

"Alright, but watch out for those reporters; they're like hawks," said Ryan warningly. "And if you're asked any questions—"

"Respond with the official 'no comment'," grumbled Greg. "I know, I know. I'm not some rookie; I've worked high profile cases before."

Ryan's face softened. "I know, I just don't want you to jeopardize your job, especially since Horatio thinks he may be able to get you into the field full-time."

Greg's eyes widened and he broke into a happy grin. "Really? He said that?" He did a little happy dance. "Yes! I'm gonna be a CSI again! No more lab for me!"

"Please, stop gracing the world with the interpretive dance skills of Greg Sanders," groaned Ryan, covering his eyes.

Leaning in close to Ryan, Greg whispered wickedly, "Funny, that's not what you said last night while we were doing the horizontal mambo."

Ryan's face turned bright red and he barked, "Perimeter, now!"

Greg just smirked. "Aye, aye, sir," he said with a wink before sauntering away, triumphant grin on his face. He meandered over to the sidewalk running parallel to the surf, not really looking for anything in particular, when he heard a voice calling, "Excuse me! Excuse me, sir?"

It was that reporter friend of Ryan's. Greg quickly arranged his face into a decidedly neutral expression and said, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but the official statement of the crime lab is no comment."

She smiled sweetly at him. "I wasn't going to ask you anything about the crime scene; I just wanted to know your name. You're new to the crime lab, and I wondered who you were."

"Ah, well, in that case, I'm Greg Sanders," supplied Greg with a smile. "And yes, I am new. I transferred from Las Vegas, and I work DNA at the crime lab."

"Is that what brought you to Miami, then?" she asked, still smiling. "The job?"

Greg smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, well, it's kind of complicated, actually…"

GREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVERGREGANDRYANFOREVER

When Greg hadn't returned twenty minutes later from checking the perimeter, Ryan started to get nervous. He had finished what he was working on and thus decided to go track down the wayward lab tech. He strolled over towards where Greg had been heading, nodding cordially to a couple of guys he knew from patrol. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Greg, talking with none other than Erica Sikes.

Ryan felt his heart plummet as he watched Erica put a hand on Greg's arm as she laughed. He swallowed hard. How could Greg do this to him, in public, with her?

Striding towards them, Ryan struggled to keep his face impassive as he listened to snatches of their conversation.

"Please?" begged Erica, pouting at Greg and blinking up at him innocently. "I promise I won't say where I got the info from."

"No way, babe," laughed Greg. "I'd be more than my job is worth to tell you something like that."

She pouted even more, leaning in close to him. "Pretty please with sugar on top? For me?"

Greg looked down at her, and for one heart-stopping second, Ryan thought he was going to kiss her. "Especially not for you, gorgeous," Greg whispered, winking roguishly at her.

That was the last straw. Ryan marched up to them, face still neutral, and said coldly, "Hi, Erica," before pulling Greg into a rough kiss.

Erica's mouth opened in shock and she raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Wow, Ryan, do you greet all your co-workers like that?"

Ryan and Greg pulled apart, and Ryan turned back to her, glaring at her and wrapping an arm possessively around Greg's waist. "No, only the ones I'm dating," he said coolly. "So hands off, Erica. He's mine."

"Fine," said Erica, equally cool. She turned to Greg. "It was nice to meet you,  
she said, smiling. Jerking her head towards Ryan, she smirked, "Good luck with him." She flounced away, back towards her news van.

Ryan looked back at Greg, inwardly cringing as he saw the anger on Greg's face. Greg—" he began meekly, but Greg cut him off.

"Save it, Ryan," he said furiously, dark eyes flashing. "I've got to get this stuff back to the lab. We'll discuss this later."

"Alright," agreed Ryan, a horrible feeling settling into the pit of his stomach as he watched Greg stalk away. All he had wanted to do was save Greg from the clutches of Erica the Bitch…why did everything he try to do backfire?


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: **So, I uploaded this, and thought I'd try my luck with the stupid sodding line-thing, and it worked! Made my whole day. Anyway, I can't think of all together too much to say about this one. Oh, Marilyn Manson and Rage Against the Machine don't actually sound anything alike...that part was written for my dear sweet father, who can never keep up with what music I listen to.Uh...usual disclaimer applies. Read on, Greg/Ryan lovers, read on. _

Chapter Seven

"_So be mine, but don't waste my time  
Crying 'Oh honeybear, are you still  
My my my baby?'_

_Take me for what I am  
Who I was meant to be  
And if you get a damn  
Take me baby or leave me"_

Greg was not happy. And when Greg wasn't happy, for some reason, everyone else tended to be unhappy…and everyone tended to be perturbed at whomever Greg was unhappy with. Ryan found himself facing a bewildering amount of hostility when he got back to the lab. Calleigh snapped at him, Horatio was terse with him, and even Alexx seemed upset with him.

Ryan was in the trace lab, going over the vic's clothing when Eric came in. "Hey man," he said, setting his evidence on the table. "I heard you and Greg had a little fight at the crime scene today."

Slamming his magnifying glass down on the table, Ryan asked angrily, "What the hell did he do, send out a freaking memo?"

"Whoa, man, chill!" said Eric, holding his hands up placatingly. "I heard it from Calleigh, who heard it from Greg. He's pretty upset."

"And I suppose you think it's my fault?" growled Ryan scathingly.

Eric gave him an appraising look. "I don't think it's anyone's fault," he said calmly. "I'm not here to accuse you of something or to take sides against you."

"Sorry," muttered Ryan, blushing slightly as he looked down. "It's just that Calleigh, Alexx, and H all seem to be angry at me."

Nodding slowly, Eric shrugged. "H isn't mad at you, I can tell you that. He's pissed because PD let one of suspects go and now the guy's skipped town. Calleigh's not really angry at you, she's just worried about Greg. And Alexx?" Eric paused and grinned. "Alexx doesn't want either of her babies getting hurt."

Ryan smiled slightly. "True." He face fell and he looked worriedly at Eric. "Is Greg really upset?"

Eric gave him a sympathetic look. "Well, yeah, he is. I saw him a few minutes ago, and he looked like he had been crying." He shrugged and added quickly, "I'm sure it's nothing, though. You guys have fought before and nothing's ever happened."

"Yeah, but this time, I'm not so sure," muttered Ryan, looking away from Eric. "Greg's really pissed at me, and I'm pretty sure I deserve it."

Frowning, Eric asked, "Just what did you do, anyway?" When Ryan didn't respond, he said gently, "You can tell me, man. I swear I won't say anything."

Ryan was surprised to find himself pouring out the whole story to Eric. This was _Delko_, for Christ's sake, the same Delko who's attitude towards Ryan had alternated between friendly rivalry and open hostility, and yet somehow, Ryan couldn't imagine telling anyone besides him.

Eric listened carefully, taking in every word and processing it. When Ryan had finished, Eric ran a hand through his hair. "Wow, man, that's tough. First thing I've got to say is you gotta get your jealousy under control or you're seriously going to lose Greg."

"I know," whispered Ryan miserably, not meeting his eyes.

"I mean, come on," said Eric, grinning gently. "You honestly thought Greg was hitting on me?"

Blushing and ducking his head, Ryan said shamefacedly, "No…but I don't want to take any chances. I don't want to lose him." He looked up, eyes searching Eric's. "I can't lose him, and I'm so afraid that I'm going to."

Eric nodded. "I know, but you have to let him breathe, or you will lose him." He looked closely at Ryan. "Why are you so afraid of losing him? I mean, I never took you for the jealous type. Besides, Greg loves you."

Ryan looked away, blushing again. "I don't deserve him," he muttered, eyes dark with self-deprecation. "He moved all the way from Las Vegas for me, and I don't deserve that. And I'm scared that he's going to realize that he can do so much better than me."

Eric gripped Ryan's arm. "Ryan, listen to me. I know we haven't always gotten along in the past, but you and Greg are perfect together, and if Greg thinks he can do better than you, he's wrong." He paused, then said gently, "Greg loves you. God only knows why," he added with a grin, "but Greg is crazy about you."

Nodding slowly, Ryan asked quietly, 'What should I do?"

"For starters," said Eric, still grinning, "get on your knees and do some serious begging for forgiveness. After that…" He trailed off and shrugged. "That's up to you. But you should know what **not** to do from everything you've done wrong these past couple of days"

He turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Ryan…one more thing."

"Yeah?" said Ryan, looking up.

Eric smirked at him. "Good luck."

* * *

When Ryan got home that night, he opened the front door, took a deep breath and entered the living room. Greg was sitting Indian-style on the couch, music blasting from the stereo. Ryan smiled tentatively. "You're listening to Manson, so you must be in a better mood," he shouted over the music.

Mistake number one. Greg's face darkened as he switched off the music and growled, "It's not Manson; it's Rage against the Machine."

Ryan winced. He had seriously misjudged Greg's mood. He switched tactics. "Look, Greg, about earlier—"

"Oh, you want to talk about earlier?" snapped Greg, glaring at him. "Ok, let's talk about earlier." He turned away from him. "Should we discuss your jealous rages? No, that's old news. Oh, I know!" He whirled around to face Ryan, anger and hurt permeating dangerously in his eyes. "Since when did I become your property? When the hell did that happen? Cuz, sorry, but I don't recall signing over the rights to myself."

Cringing under the onslaught, Ryan protested meekly, "I don't think you're my property—"

"No? Then where the hell do you get off treating me like a possession, like something only you have claim to?"

"When did I say that?" countered Ryan.

Greg glared at him. "'_Hands off Erica_,'" mocked Greg coldly. "'_He's mine_.'"

Ryan was starting to get angry. "Don't put words in my mouth. After all, I do have some claim to you. You are my boyfriend."

Still glaring, Greg snorted. "Yeah, well, keep this up and that won't be true for too much longer."

"Don't act like you're the only injured party in this!" snapped Ryan, temper flaring. "You promised to tone down the flirting, and then you go and flirt with Erica Sikes, right in front of me."

Greg threw up his hands in exasperation. "How many times to I have to tell you? It's not flirting, it's just my personality."

"Then change your personality," snarled Ryan.

Staring at him with his mouth open slightly in shock, Greg asked, voice deceptively calm, "What did you just tell me to do?"

Ryan's face burned as he realized what he had said, but he said evenly, "You heard me. If it's in your personality to be flirty, then change your personality."

The room went deathly silent. Greg took three strides across the room until he stood practically nose to nose with Ryan. He looked him in the eyes and said softly, "I have two words for you: Fuck You." Then he slapped him across the face.

* * *

_**A/N:** Silly, stupid Ryan...why would you say something like that?_


	8. Chapter 8

**_A/N: _THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M FOR SEXUAL CONTENT!**_ Nothing truly smutty, sorry, but enough so that I thought I'd warn everyone. I am so, so sorry that I haven't updated in forever. And then when I update, it's not very long. I have been crazy busy these past few weeks. But now I'm back, and I'm working on getting this story to where it needs to be. Including a short, smutty chapter. Usual disclaimer applies...enjoy this one. I know you will._

Chapter Eight_  
_

"_No way, can I be what I'm not  
But hey, don't you want your (man) hot?  
Oh, don't fight, don't loose your head  
'Cause every night who's in your bed?"_

Ryan stared at Greg in shock, the dull pain of the slap spreading over his cheek. Somewhere in his mind it registered that he probably had a red mark, but that was hardly important to him right now. Instead, before he could stop himself, some arcane, primal instinct took hold, and he shoved Greg, hard. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" he shouted.

"What's wrong with me?" hissed Greg, face dark. "**_Me?_** Nothing's wrong with me, but something's sure as hell wrong with you."

Realizing that this was going to quickly get out of hand, Ryan took a deep breath and said in appeasing tones, "Is this what we've come to, baby? Slapping and pushing each other?"

Greg, however, didn't relax. "We're reduced to this if you insist on treating me like a possession," he snarled, poised to strike again.

Try as he might to control his temper, Ryan failed. "Well, maybe I wouldn't have to treat you like that if you could keep it in your pants."

Greg's voice shook as he struggled to keep clam. "I have been nothing but faithful to you," he said quietly, the starkness of the statement emphasizing its sincerity.

"Ok, sure," spat Ryan sarcastically, rolling his eyes overdramatically.

Greg snapped. He grabbed Ryan by the shoulders and shoved him into the book shelf directly behind him, oblivious to the books and splintered shelves that clattered down around them. Ryan just stared at him, shock stamped on his face.

Ryan's eyes met Greg's and neither moved for a moment. Then Greg leaned in and kissed Ryan, suddenly and fiercely, capturing his lips in one swift movement.

There was nothing sweet about this kiss, nothing particularly romantic, driven strictly by the passion of the moment, but as Ryan tried to protest, he found himself kissing Greg back, stepping forward so that their hips were flush. Greg, however, shoved him back against the wall, hard. Thoroughly surprised, Ryan was amazed to find that he liked it.

"Oh, yes," whispered Greg in his ear, hot breath coming out in short pants. "You like it rough, don't you?"

Whimpering slightly in anticipation, Ryan leaned in and kissed Greg again. Suddenly, he whirled him around so that Greg was now against the wall. "Damn right I do," growled Ryan, licking Greg's ear. "And you do, too."

Greg grinned wickedly before pushing Ryan away from him. He began to unbutton his shirt, taking it off slowly and doing a little striptease for Ryan's benefit.

Smiling as well, Ryan stepped forward and ripped the rest of the shirt open, ignoring the buttons that flew off. "Too slowly," he said throatily, kissing Greg's neck and moving down to kiss Greg's chest. Greg groaned softly as Ryan's mouth roamed over his chest. He breathed in sharply when Ryan bit down.

Greg pulled Ryan to him and kissed him urgently, reaching out to pull Ryan's shirt off as well, throwing it aside. They kissed each other ferociously, each one battling for some sort of dominance. Then Greg undid Ryan's belt and tossed that aside as well. His nomadic hands slid into Ryan's jeans.

Arching his back and moaning, Ryan pulled Greg's hands out of his pants. "Hands off, cowboy," he groaned. "Let's take this somewhere more appropriate."

Greg grinned and followed Ryan towards the bedroom. Suddenly, he paused. "What about the bookshelves?" he asked.

Ryan just looked at him. "Don't you think we have more important things to attend to?" he murmured, rubbing against Greg.

The brief contact was enough to convince Greg. He willingly followed Ryan into the bedroom. They made out for a few moments before Ryan broke away, grinning. He pushed Greg onto the bed, pulled his pants off and crawled over to him, undoing Greg's belt and taking his pants off as well.

Greg reached over to the nightstand and pulled something out, hiding it behind him. He rolled over with Ryan, shoving him forcefully against the pillows. In one rapid move he handcuffed Ryan to the headboard.

Ryan gasped as Greg began doing unspeakable things to him with his tongue. He moaned loudly and struggled against the handcuffs, longing to have some part in this. Greg just smiled at him. "Why do you doubt me," he whispered, scratching Ryan's back with his fingernails. "Why, when I do such wonderful things to you?"

Moaning loudly, Ryan just shook his head. He had suddenly lost the ability to formulate a complete thought. "Just…don't…stop," he panted, closing his eyes in ecstasy. He paused, then added, "And…your…turn's…next."

Greg just grinned and kept up his ministrations.

* * *

About an hour later, Greg and Ryan lay tangled together in the bed, completely spent. Ryan groaned and cast a look at his half-asleep lover. "Ingenious…" he muttered. "Handcuffs…absolutely ingenious." 

"Thanks," murmured Greg into Ryan's chest. He blinked blearily up at Ryan. "So, does this mean our fight's over?"

Ryan frowned and sighed. "Do you think our fight's over?" he challenged, stroking Greg's hair. "Sure, we had some great sex—"

"Phenomenal sex," corrected Greg.

"But we haven't actually solved anything," finished Ryan, giving Greg a look. Sighing again, he pushed himself up and got out of bed, looking around for his boxers. "We have to talk," he continued. "We have to figure this whole thing out." He pulled his pants on and started to leave. He paused. "Meet me in the living room once you're dressed," he said, his voice no longer the sweet voice of a lover but rather the cold voice of a stranger.

Greg sighed as he watched Ryan leave. He curled his fingers into the sheets. What was going to happen now?


	9. Chapter 9

**_A/N:_**_ Sheesh, so many angry reviews...I never said they were breaking up...there again, I never said they were staying together either...hmm. Anyway, this chapter is up in a MUCH more timely fashion (Yay! Everyone cheer!). Usual Disclaimer applies...not mine, never will be. In any case, here you go! Enjoy._

  
Chapter 9

_"It won't work—I look before I leap  
I love margins and discipline  
I make lists in my sleep  
Baby, what's my sin?"_

When Greg finally made his way to the living room, Ryan was already there, sitting stone-faced in the armchair, a mug of coffee on the table next to him. Greg saw Ryan and his stomach clenched in nervous fear. Ryan's face seemed both great and terrible, the cold look on it reminisce of a painting Greg had once seen of a wrathful Greek god.

Of course, Ryan was no god, but in that moment, Greg wasn't sure he had ever felt so mortal. He sat warily on the couch, eyeing Ryan as if waiting for a cat to pounce. Ryan blinked slowly and shook his head as if clearing it of all its thoughts. His eyes focused on Greg and he sighed softly. "Greg."

Not knowing if it was a question or a statement, Greg answered just as quietly, "Ryan."

Ryan's eyes were full of resigned sadness, the long suffering of someone who had made up his mind and regretted every instance of it. "Greg, it won't work. We tried, we tried everything we could, but we're too different." He sighed again and rubbed his forehead, suddenly looking weary and decades beyond his few years. "I'm sorry."

Greg stared at Ryan, shock and anger radiating from him. "You're _**sorry**?_!" spat Greg, anger boiling over and clouding any shred of rationality he had left. "I gave up everything to be here, Ryan. My friends, my job, my life. I gave up everything for you." "I know," said Ryan gently, not looking at him. "And I am so, so sorry for that. But there's not enough here to hold together what's falling apart."

Pausing, Greg said softly, painfully and defeatedly, "I love you. I thought that was enough to keep us together."

"It's not that I don't love you," protested Ryan quietly. "I do love you. I just don't think this'll work out. We have…irreconcilable differences."

"So a few differences is enough to make you give up on us," said Greg coldly. He blinked back tears. "A few differences are enough to outweigh my love for you."

Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Look, it's not like those differences are as simple as you liking apples and me oranges. We want different things. I want to settle down. I want a monogamous relationship that will last the rest of my life."

"And I don't?" challenged Greg, raising one eyebrow. "What do think this is then? You think I'm here for laughs or for a quick fuck?" He paused and when he spoke again, his voice was filled with a soft yet earnest passion. "I want this, Ryan. I want the same thing you want. I want monogamy. I came here to settle down with you, to make our life together. Why is this not enough for you?"

Shaking his head slowly, Ryan said, "It is enough for me. I'm just not sure if this is what you really want, and I don't want to tie you down."

"No, apparently you'd rather just fuck me and send me packing," muttered Greg sarcastically, not looking at Ryan. Finally, he looked back up, tear-filled chocolate eyes steeled with a resolution he didn't want to have. "Fine. Fine, I'll go. I'll pack my stuff and I'll be gone by tonight, if that's what you want." Pausing again, he gave Ryan a sharp, piercingly searching gaze. "You know something? I don't think that's what you want. I think you just don't know how to solve this, and that bothers you." Greg pointed at Ryan for emphasis. "You aren't in control of this, and you can't stand not being in control."

That's not true," snapped Ryan angrily. "We've tried working this out, and neither of us are in control of this anymore. It hasn't worked in that past and no one can control this now." He paused before adding bitterly, "I'm tired of trying."

Greg knelt in front of him and took both his hands in his. "Then let me try," he whispered, eyes searching Ryan's. "Let this one fall on me. Just…just give me one more chance. Just once to try and make this work. Please, babe," he whispered brokenly, tears falling freely from his eyes. "Don't let this go. Not now, not when we have so much to lose."

Ryan's eyes met Greg's, and the tears in Greg's reflected in the deep green of Ryan's. "Ok," whispered Ryan, stroking Greg's cheek with his thumb. "Ok. Once more. One more time, we'll give this a go." He looked at Greg seriously. "But just once more. I can't take much more of this."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," whispered Greg, pulling Ryan to him and crushing him in a hug. "Thank you, baby, and I promise I won't fail you. I promise." He kissed him hard on the lips. "I love you, and we will make this work."

Ryan kissed him back, then pulled away. "One stipulation, though. We need to set some ground rules, all right? For both of us to follow."

"Alright," agreed Greg reluctantly. He sat down on the couch and pulled Ryan on next to him. "What sort of ground rules are we talking about here? Like make sure we have sex once a day, or what?"

Grinning at him, Ryan playfully punched him in the eyes. "No, you weirdo. That's a given." He paused and gave Greg a look. "I'm talking about serious rules." He laid his head against Greg's shoulder and said generously, "Why don't you go first?"

Greg cocked his head to one side and frowned thoughtfully. "Alright…number one, no jealousy without first explaining why you're jealous."

Ryan nodded slowly. "Alright, I can do that." Sitting up, he said quietly, "Number two, no fighting or flirting at crime scenes or the lab…no matter what."

"Agreed," said Greg, rubbing the back of his neck. "Number three…"

* * *

Half an hour later, the two had a set of ten basic rules to follow. Greg stretched and said jokingly, "Can we call them the Pirates' Code?" 

Ryan shook his head and grinned. "I suppose that's acceptable," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I like number ten best," yawned Greg, nuzzling Ryan's neck.

"What's that?" asked Ryan, looking down at him.

"Never go to bed angry," said Greg, closing his eyes sleepily. "And always make the most of make up sex." He sat up straight to look at Ryan. "Speaking of which, don't you think we have something we should be doing right now?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow at him. "What should we be doing?"

Greg grinned. "Having some make up sex."

Rolling his eyes, Ryan groaned and said, "You're incorrigible, Greg."

"And you love me for it just the same," countered Greg. He stood up and tugged on Ryan's hand, pulling him up after him.

"That I do," Ryan sais as he stood and followed him towards the bedroom, all too willing to participate in what would take place next. "That I do."


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: **Another quick update. Jeez, I don't know what's gotten into me this week! Anyway, this chapter is slightly longer than the last (by a few hundred words), but this one has considerably less of a point (meaning it's random). Still smutty, but not as bad as last time. Usual disclaimer applies. Enjoy! _

Chapter 10

_Never quit, I follow through  
I hate mess but I love you  
Oh what to do with my impromptu baby?  
So be wise  
Cuz this (man) satisfies  
You've got a prize, but don't compromise  
You're one lucky baby"_

The next morning, Ryan woke up early. He looked over at Greg's soundly sleeping form and smiled slightly. Leaning over, he brushed a gentle kiss against Greg's cheek before standing and padding down the hallway to the kitchen.

He made a fresh pot of coffee, and while it brewed he walked over to the window, staring out at the early morning in Miami. He loved mornings like this. Even though the sun would dispel any trace of fog before Greg even got up, thin wisps still clung to the buildings and hugged the palm trees. Ryan could just see the crashing waves break against the white sand of one of the beaches nearby from where he stood, and he smiled.

He loved Miami. The red sun dyed everything pink. Despite every crime scene he went to, despite every person who lied and murdered and stole and raped, he could still find that magic with every sunrise. It was the people that were evil, not the city.

Sighing, he turned back to the coffee machine, noting happily that it was finally done. He poured himself a cup and inhaled the fragrantly rich aroma. As strange as it may sound, one of the best things Greg ever did for Ryan was bringing his Blue Hawaiian with him from Vegas.

Thoroughly content, Ryan wrapped his fingers around the mug and went into the living room, stretching out on the couch. He looked around at the wreckage from the night before and sighed deeply, his good mood dissipating quickly.

Books were strewn everywhere, some landing upside down, open or on their spines. Ryan winced. All of the spines of his books were probably cracked now. He picked one up off his couch and grimaced. His grandfather's copy of Ivanhoe. The poor old man had probably turned over in his grave. Ryan closed it and set it reverently on the table before sighing as he looked around,

Close to three hundred books lay scattered on the floor, in clumps or alone. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ryan sighed again as he thought about how much time it was going to take for him to up all the books and put them back in alphabetical order (according to author, of course).

Then there was the fact that he had no bookshelves to put them on. Majority of the bookcase lay in splintered pieces on the ground, covering the books in a light coat of wood dust. Frowning deeply, Ryan closed his eyes and lay back against the couch. Maybe he should let Greg deal with it. A humorless laugh escaped his lips. Fat chance of that.

Shaking his head resignedly, Ryan settled back into his previous mood of contentment and took a long sip of his coffee. Sure, his apartment was in shambles and some priceless books were probably mutilated beyond repair and some wood splinters had probably gotten stuck so far down in the carpet that they would never come out, but what did that matter? He and Greg were still together, and were working this out, and that was a miracle in itself, a miracle that despite all still teetered on tenuous ground.

Ryan heard the alarm go off in the bedroom, heard Greg fumble for it, cursing. Then he watched Greg stumble out of the bedroom into the kitchen, automatically going for the coffee. Taking a sip from his own mug, Ryan watched with a bemused expression as Greg gulped down an entire cup of coffee before his eyes were even open all the way. "Morning," said Ryan, smirking at him.

Greg cracked one eyelid and growled, "I hate morning people."

"Nice to see you, too," said Ryan cheerfully, draining his mug and setting it down on the coffee table.

Simply glaring at him, Greg poured himself another cup of coffee. Ryan stretched and glanced at the clock. "Are you showering first or am I?"

Grinning widely, Greg suggested off-handedly, "We could shower together…"

Ryan gave him a look. "Nice try, buddy, but not so much. Someone has to do the laundry, and we both know you're not going to do it."

Greg gave Ryan his best puppy-dog look. "Please?" he begged. "Showering alone is so…lonely."

"Pobre cito, lo siento," said Ryan sarcastically. He slapped Greg on the butt. "Get a move on, or we're going to be late for work."

"Fine," sighed Greg. Giving Ryan one last sad look, he slumped off toward the bathroom.

Ryan just rolled his eyes and headed back into the bedroom. Looking around, he groaned aloud, taking in the state of the bedroom. Somehow, it seemed that whatever room Greg went into always ended up looking like a hurricane had hit. Greg had been up for a grand total of ten minutes, and the bedroom was a mess. Clothes hung out of the dresser drawers and littered the floor. Groaning again, Ryan bent and began to pick up all the clothes that lay everywhere. He picked up socks and shirts, pants and boxers (some of which he found in rather odd places). When he had gathered an armful, he cast a despairing eye about the room. There was still more to be picked up.

Ryan frowned deeply. Now, he loved Greg, but one of their rules (number 17, to be exact) was that housework was to be shared. Ryan didn't see why he should have to pick up after Greg all the time. Greg was a grown man after all.

With this in mind, Ryan set his jaw resolutely and stomped toward the bathroom, still baring Greg's dirty clothes. "Oh, Greg…" he called, knocking on the door.

"Hey, come on in," called Greg. "Did you change your mind about showering together?"

"No, actually, I have a job for you," said Ryan, dangerously sweet. He opened the door and marched in. Greg stuck his head out of the shower and watched as Ryan dumped the clothes on the floor. "These are yours, I believe, so you can wash them."

Greg's brow furrowed as he looked at the clothes. "That shirt's not," he said, pointing at a green t-shirt. "That's your shirt, so you can wash it."

Rolling his eyes again, Ryan said exasperatedly, "That's not my shirt. I put all my clothes in the hamper, like you're supposed to. All the clothes in our bedroom were YOURS."

Shaking his head resolutely, Greg said stubbornly, "No, I know for a fact that's not my shirt. Come on, bring it here. I'll prove it."

Ryan stalked over to Greg, bringing with him the shirt in question. "Here it is. Now prove it."

Greg just grinned and pulled Ryan into the shower with him. Ryan gaped at Greg as the hot water soaked through his pajamas. "Greg, what the hell—" he yelped, but Greg effectively cut him off by pushing him against the shower wall and kissing him deeply. Ryan kissed him hungrily back before pushing Greg away and looking dismally down at his PJs. "Greg, you got my clothes wet!" he exclaimed.

Simply smiling, Greg said seductively, "Well, the soaking wet look is _really_ hot on you."

"Damn, boy," whispered Ryan, kissing Greg. "If I've got you so hot and bothered, we might want to fix that."

"Mmm, I can agree with that," growled Greg, pulling Ryan's shirt off and tossing it outside the shower. Ryan stepped out of his boxers and threw them outside the shower as well, kissing Greg hard. Greg grinned and knelt down, ready to please Ryan however he wanted.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Ryan and Greg lay together, completely naked and spent on the bed. Ryan looked over at Greg. "We're gonna be late for work."

"Screw work," muttered Greg, rolling over to look at Ryan. "I want to screw you again."

Ryan smiled but got of bed, going over to his dresser and grabbing some clean clothes. "You may not care about being late, but I do. Besides," he added, throwing a glance at Greg, "don't you want to be a CSI?"

"Hell yes," said Greg, sitting up straight. "I forgot Horatio said that."

Ryan tossed a t-shirt at him. "Then get your ass moving."

Greg gave Ryan a grin. "For you, anything," he drawled, standing up and pulling the shirt on. "Anything."


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N:** Ah, another chapter. Sorry this one was a bit longer coming, but as you can see, it's about twice the length of all the other ones. Mrs. Cohen in this chapter is dedicated to my friend's grandmother, a Holocaust survivor who just recently passed away. The case in this story is the same case as in chapter 6. Oh, small side note; you might have realized that Natalia Boa Vista is not in this story...well, all personal feelings about her character aside, she simply didn't fit in this story, so I cut her out. Meh. Not such a loss. In any case, usual disclaimer applies. Read on, and enjoy!  
_

Chapter 11

"_Take me for what I am  
(A control freak)  
Who I was meant to be  
(A snob—yet over-attentive)  
And if you give a damn  
(A lovable, droll geek)  
Take me, baby, or leave me  
(And anal retentive)"_

Later that day, Ryan and Greg were both in the DNA lab, staring impatiently at the printer. Ryan looked pleadingly at Greg. "Can't you make it go faster?"

Simply raising an eyebrow at him, Greg said calmly, "I can't make CODIS go any faster than you can make the mass spec go."

Ryan drummed his fingers anxiously on the counter. "Yeah, but the mass spec doesn't take this long," he growled, glaring darkly at Greg's computer.

"Look," said Greg appeasingly, "why don't you go take a break? I'll page you with the results, as soon as I get them."

Shaking his head firmly, Ryan said exhaustedly, "No can do. This case is getting colder than an iceberg in Antarctica, and I'm the only CSI on it. Over a thousand people go through that park where the body was found daily, and this hair that you're running could definitely get us a witness at the very least, if not a suspect."

"You're the only CSI working this case?" asked Greg, raising one eyebrow. "What are H, Calleigh and Eric working on?"

"Calleigh's stuck in Ballistics with a causeway shooting and some hundred bullets, and Delko and H are on a missing persons. I can't even confirm that this vic was part of the sniper attacks until Calleigh gets to the bullet, but she's a little busy right now. Alexx's trajectory findings were inconclusive because the bullet could have come from one of five buildings, and any of five spots n each of those buildings. Once again, I need Calleigh's help to narrow it down, but—"

Greg cut him off by kissing him gently on the lips. "Calm down, baby," he whispered, pulling Ryan to him and wrapping him in a hug. "It'll be ok, I promise. Just…breathe."

Ryan closed his eyes and laid his head against Greg's chest, breathing deeply. Greg kissed the top of his head and rubbed his back soothingly.

At that moment, Greg's computer gave off a series of high-pitched beeps. Ryan tensed. "What does that mean?" he asked, voice muffled in Greg's shirt.

Greg sighed deeply. "It means CODIS couldn't find a match," he said softly.

"Damnit!" swore Ryan, pulling away from Greg and slamming his fist down n the table.

"Mr. Wolfe," said Horatio from the doorway, looking in on him with a bemused expression on his face. "I must ask you to treat the lab with more respect, especially since I doubt it did anything to you."

Ryan looked shamefacedly at Horatio. "Sorry, H," he said, rubbing his neck with his hand. "It's just been a long day."

Horatio nodded sympathetically, twisting his sunglasses in his hands. "I know, Mr. Wolfe, but try to keep your temper under control." He turned to Greg. "Mr. Sanders, do you have anything else waiting on you?"

Greg shook his head, looking confused. "No, H, I finished all the backlog, and no new cases have come in."

Nodding, Horatio said calmly, "Alright then, Mr. Sanders, you're on the case."

Greg gaped at Horatio. "Are you serious," he asked, eyebrows raised. "But I haven't been approved as CSI yet."

"I know," said Horatio benevolently, hiding a smile, "but Ryan needs your help and you're the only one available. You're technically hands-off, of course, but feel free to help Ryan with anything that doesn't involve collecting evidence."

Ryan sighed. "As much as I appreciate Greg's help, H, there's really nothing we can do until with get the ballistics results back from Calleigh."

Smiling, Horatio pulled out a file folder from the pile he had and handed it to Ryan. "Yes, Mr. Wolfe, I know. That's why Calleigh asked me to give this to you."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" exclaimed Ryan, flipping open the file folder and skimming through the contents.

Greg shot Horatio a bemused grin and a shrug, which Horatio returned before putting his sunglasses on and leaving. Turning back to Ryan, Greg asked, "So…what's Dr. Calleigh's diagnosis?"

Ryan looked up and blinked once before grinning. "It's not the sniper," he said excitedly, eyes glowing with the prospect of a new challenge. "Wrong type of bullet. It' still from a sniper rifle, but either we've got a copycat, or this was personal." He looked closer at the folder. "She's also narrowed down the trajectory to three possible spots." Setting down the folder decisively, he turned to Greg. "Let's go check this out before the scenes get cold."

"Sir, yes sir," said Greg, saluting Ryan as he passed by before following him out.

* * *

Ryan and Greg ducked under the crime tape at the third possible location. The other two had revealed nothing, so their hopes hinged on this one. Ryan knelt next to the door, looking closely at the doorknob. "Signs of forced entry," he remarked, looking at it. "No definitive tool marks, though."

Greg knelt as well by the railing of the apartment's balcony. "GSR on the railing," he called, taking a picture of it. "This is definitely where the sniper was."

Coming over to stand next to Greg, Ryan looked down at the other man. "Greg, I can't believe you're wearing Aviator sunglasses. You look like something out of Top Gun."

Greg just grinned and hummed "Take my Breath Away" to himself. Ryan rolled his eyes and then noticed a scrap of paper on the floor. He picked it up and read what it said aloud. "Green shirt. Khaki shorts. White tennis shoes. Walking a dark-colored German Shepard at about 12:45." He looked at Greg. "What color shirt was out vic wearing?"

"Green…" said Greg slowly, "and he walking his dog." He looked up at Ryan as he stood slowly. "So this wasn't random."

Ryan grinned fiercely. "This was what lawyers like to call 'premeditated'." He looked around at the small, empty apartment. "Not much here to get prints off of."

Looking around, Greg noticed a chair against the opposite wall. He ran a finger over it. "This chair has been recently cleaned."

"So has the rest of the apartment," said Ryan grimly. "That means there's no prints."

Greg sighed. "Damn," he said, shaking his head. "Now what?"

Ryan looked resolutely at him. "Let's go see who might've had a grudge against our vic."

* * *

Ryan knocked briskly on the door before stepping back, looking around at the tidy, immaculate lawn of the Tudor-style house. Greg stood behind him, Aviators still resolutely on, surveying the house as well.

An elderly woman opened the door a crack and peered at Greg and Ryan. "Can I help you?" she asked softly in a thick German accent, blinking owlishly at them.

Ryan shared a look with Greg before saying, "Hi, Mrs. Cohen, I'm Ryan Wolfe and this is Greg Sanders. We're with the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. We'd like to talk with you about your son."

A brief look of sadness crossed the woman's face and she nodded once, stepping back and opening the door all the way. "I suppose you had better come in."

Ryan started in after her, then turned back to Greg, "Coming, Maverick?"

Greg grinned and shook his head. "Right behind you, Goose."

They followed the woman into the living room. Greg and Ryan looked around in wonder. Everything was draped in black, including the picture frames and mirrors. She gestured them into a chair before sitting down herself. "I do hope you'll pardon the house," she said quietly. "We are sitting shiv'ah for Yitzchak."

"Yitzchak?" asked Ryan, looking confused. "I thought your son's name was Michael."

Mrs. Cohen stiffened. "Michael was his disgusting American name. His father insisted on it."

Ryan nodded slowly. "Ma'am, we've come to ask you a few questions about your son. New evidence has arisen to suggest that his death may not have been random as we first thought."

"So…Yitzchak was murdered?" she asked softly, not looking at them.

Ryan shared a look with Greg before saying, just as softly, "It's beginning to look that way. We just want to know if Yitzchak had any enemies, if there is anyone you could understand who might want him dead."

Mrs. Cohen's eyes flashed and she said bitterly, "I was five years old when the Nazis killed my parents and little brother. Five years old when I was branded for life." She tugged her shirtsleeve up to display the blue ink on the pale skin of her arm. "I ceased to understand why anyone would kill anyone else."

"Please, Madam," said Greg quietly, his brown eyes intense as he looked at her. "I know this doesn't make sense to you. It doesn't make sense to us either. We're just asking for your help."

Pausing briefly, she nodded jerkily and pulled her sleeve down, folding her hands in her lap. "I know of two people my Yitzchak fought with recently. His wife, Julie, and…Daniel."

Leaning forward slightly, Ryan asked carefully, "Who is Daniel?"

For the first time, the woman looked embarrassed. "Daniel is…was…my son's…lover. He and Yitzchak had quite the fight outside my house the other day."

"If you don't mind me asking," said Greg, leaning forward as well, "what did they fight about?"

"Yitzchak suspected that Daniel was cheating on him," said Mrs. Cohen, her voice hushed conspiratorially. "Yitzchak threatened to tell Daniel's wife about them."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Daniel was married too?" he mused aloud. "Jesus."

Giving Ryan a look, Greg asked, "What about Yitzchak's wife, Julie? Did she know about him and Daniel?"

Nodding, Mrs. Cohen said quietly, "That's what they fought about. It was terrible. Yitzchak came and stayed here for a few days, that's how bad it was. She went crazy and threatened to take his three children away from him." She paused, then added thoughtfully, "Not that I blame her, poor woman. It must have been a shock."

Greg pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at Ryan, who was nodding slowly. "Thank you, Mrs. Cohen. You've been a tremendous help to us. And we will find your son's killer, I promise."

She nodded as well. "I know." Standing, she walked them to the door. "Thank you for everything."

Greg and Ryan inclined their heads as they left. Greg suddenly turned back to her. "Oh, and Mrs. Cohen? Ha-makom yenachem et'chem b'toch she'ar avelei Tzion vi'Yerushlayim."

A smile broke across her creased face and she nodded slowly. "Toda roba," she called after him.

Turning around and following Ryan to the car, Greg smiled slightly. At Ryan's raised eyebrow, he explained, "I said a traditional Hebrew consolation to her."

"You speak Hebrew?" asked Ryan, raising both eyebrows.

Greg shrugged. "I had a girlfriend who was Jewish and she taught me a few odd phrases."

Looking sideways at him, Ryan half-grinned as he started the car. "You know, that was kinda hot."

"The fact that I speak some Yiddish is hot?" asked Greg, grinning as well. He put his Aviators back on and leaned back in his seat. "I feel a need…the need for speed."

Ryan just grinned and shook his head. "Negative, Ghostrider, the pattern is full."

* * *

Back at the crime lab, Greg and Ryan gave their report to Horatio and headed into a lab to look at all the evidence. Ryan looked quizzically at the screen, hand on chin in his "thinking pose." "So who do you like for this?"

Greg shot him a sideways glance and looked back at the screen. "The jealous wife, definitely. She's the only one I think would be mad enough to take drastic action."

"I dunno," said Ryan, pulling up the wife's picture on the screen. "She doesn't really look like the kind of person who could either kill her husband or hire someone to kill him. I mean, look at her…look in her eyes."

"What about her eyes?" asked Greg crossly, giving him a look. "I mean, look at this guy." He pulled up the lover's picture and pointed at it adamantly. "Look at that face."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Since when did we start making assumptions based on appearances? And the guy's got a record. He beat up his boyfriend, for Christ's sake!"

"Hey, he was acquitted, remember?" said Greg defensively, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "And that's rich. The guy who says the wife is innocent based on her eyes is telling me not to judge on appearances. Look at the pot calling the kettle black." He shook his head and muttered under his breath, "Control freak."

Glaring at him, Ryan snapped, "I am not a control freak. I happen to think that the wife wasn't capable of murder. She was pissed, yeah, and justifiably so, but she loved him."

Greg shook his head. "Daniel loved him, too. That doesn't acquit either of them."

"We don't know Daniel loved him," argued Ryan, voice beginning to rise with his temper. "The guy cheated on him, remember?"

"And we have no proof of that!" exclaimed Greg, beginning to get angry as well. "For all we know, Yitzchak's beliefs were completely unfounded. Maybe the guy was just a super-sensitive, anal-retentive asshole who was incapable of trusting another human being!"

Horatio stepped into the room, frowning at the pair of them. "Mr. Sanders, Mr. Wolfe, you two need to control your tempers."

But Ryan was beyond controlling his temper. "Really, Greg? Calling me anal-retentive? Was that the best you can do?"

"Oh, I could go on," growled Greg. "I just don't want to say something I regret."

"Oh, I think we're quite beyond that," snapped Ryan.

Now it was Calleigh's turn to intervene. "Greg, Ryan, you guys are being ridiculous."

"You know what?" snarled Ryan, ignoring Calleigh. "At least I'm not on the side of some slut. But you know why you're on the side of the slut? Because sluts stick together, Greg, that's why. And sluts will always be sluts no matter what."

The silence was resounding. Calleigh gasped loudly, her hand flying to her mouth. Greg just stared at Ryan. "That's it," he whispered...

* * *

_**A/N:** Ah Cliffie! Don't hate me! Greg's Hebrew consolation means "May the omnipresent comfort you together with the other mourners of Zion and Jerusalem." Mrs. Cohen's response means, "Thank you very much." Shiv'ah is the Jewish ritual for mourning. The two quotes "I feel a need…a need for speed" and "negative, Ghostrider, the pattern is full" are from _Top Gun_, just as the characters Maverick and Goose are. _


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N:** So, I know most of you probably hate me after the last chapter...we'll see if the result is the same after this one! Anyway, I digress as per always...um...not much to say about this one. No added warnings or anything...except for language. Oh, as a random side bar, if you're looking for something fun to do this Christmas, check out this website..._wwwDOTfreewebsDOTcomSLASHcsisanta06. _Now obviously y'all need to put periods instead of DOT's and a slash instead of, well, slash. But seriously, check it out._

_And without any further ado..._

Chapter 12

"_That's it  
The straw that breaks my back  
I quit  
Unless you take it back  
(Men)—What is it about them?  
Can't live with them or without them!"_

"That's it," repeated Greg softly, his eyes darkening as he stared at Ryan. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly. "Ok, Ryan, you want to go at it with me, here and now? Fine." He opened his arms, inviting him. "Take your best shot."

Ryan just looked at him, confusion on his face, before shaking his head and turning back to the screen. "I don't know what you're talking about. Let's just get back to the case."

"Fuck the case!" shouted Greg, grabbing Ryan's shoulder and turning him around to face him.

Calleigh gasped again and Horatio said warningly, "Mr. Sanders—"

"This isn't about the case," continued Greg in quieter tones. "This is about you and me and nothing else." He paused, eyes searching Ryan's, before shaking his head and muttering to himself, "Maybe it was a mistake to come here."

Raising an eyebrow, Ryan asked, "Here? The lab?"

"No!" exclaimed Greg, sighing heavily. "To Miami." Pausing again, he shook his head slowly, eyes filled with pain. "Maybe I should've just stayed in Las Vegas."

Ryan sighed and rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Greg, we have a case to work on. Remember the rules? No fighting at work. We can talk about this later."

Greg's eyes flashed. "No, we'll talk about this now, Ryan. Maybe you can ignore and block out everything that's going on in your life, but I can't. This," he said, pointing at his head before moving his hand to his chest, "and this are connected for me. I can't just separate them and concentrate on this case."

Rolling his eyes again, Ryan crossed his arms in front of his chest and raised an eyebrow. "Ok, you want to talk? Then start talking—I've got work to do."

"You called me a slut," whispered Greg, voice filled with hurt and chocolate eyes filled with tears.

Shifting uncomfortably, Ryan retorted, "Yeah, well, you called me anal. We're even. Now can we please get back to work?"

"Take it back." Greg's voice was calm as he delivered this ultimatum, too calm, deceptively and dangerously calm.

Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose and winced. "Jesus, Greg, what are we? Back in the second grade? I'm rubber, you're glue and all that shit?"

Greg's face was still impassive, but a muscle twitched in his jaw. "Take it back or I walk."

Leaning against the table, Ryan chuckled humorlessly and rolled his eyes yet again. "My God, Greg, I can't even believe we're having this conversation. This is so banal."

Swallowing hard, Greg said with considerable effort, "I'll give you one more chance before I walk out those doors, and I won't come back."

Eyes flashing, Ryan snapped, "You want to play children's games? Fine. I'll take it back when you take back calling me an anal-retentive control freak!"

For a second, no one moved, then Greg nodded jerkily. "Fine," he whispered through clenched teeth, eyes full of tears. "Fine, if that's the way you want it, so be it." He hesitated for a second, then unclipped his ID badge and walked over to Horatio. "H, thank you for giving me a great opportunity, but I think it's past time I went home…to Vegas."

Horatio looked down at the ID badge that Greg placed in his hand. "Very well, Mr. Sanders, if you must. I hate letting any of my family go, but I know you think this is for the best. You will be missed."

Then Greg turned to Calleigh, who was already crying. "Calleigh," he said, holding his arms out for a hug. "My beautiful Southern Belle." He held her tightly and then kissed her once on the cheek. "Keep your chin up, love. I'll call you sometime when I get back to Vegas."

He looked back at Horatio, but what he said was aimed at Ryan as well. "I'm going to say good-bye to Alexx. Tell everyone else that I say good-bye."

Nodding once, Horatio said softly, "Good-bye, Greg, and Godspeed."

As soon as Greg was out of the room, Calleigh whirled on Ryan, eyes brimming with fury and tears. "How could you say those things to him?" she demanded. "I'm glad he left you…you sure as hell don't deserve him."

Then she left as well, heading to Ballistics, probably, to blow off some steam.

Ryan turned helplessly back to Horatio. "H—" he started, but the older man cut him off.

"Give her time to cool off. This comes as a shock to all of us. And Ryan…" He paused. "I don't look favorably on the person who breaks up my family." With that said, Horatio strolled out, leaving Ryan alone with his misery.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Ryan was walking dejectedly through the halls of the crime lab, too self-pitying to continue working on the case, and far too stubborn to find Greg and apologize. All of a sudden, Alexx walked up to him and whacked him, hard, on the arm. "Ow!" exclaimed Ryan, looking at his arm then back at her. "Jesus, Alexx, what the hell was that for?" 

"That was for letting the best thing that has ever happened to you walk out of your life, and this," she said, hitting him again, "is for not going after him."

Ryan stared at her, realization settling in his heart and mind. "Oh, God, Alexx, you're right." He looked around wildly. "I gotta find H, I gotta go. I have to stop Greg, and make him stay."

Alexx shoved him towards the door. "You go, I'll find Horatio."

Ryan was already gone, literally running out of the lab. "Thanks, Alexx," he called over his shoulder as he ran off.

"You just make my baby boy stay put, you hear?" she yelled after him. Raising her eyes briefly to the ceiling, she repeated, "Make my baby boy stay."

* * *

Ryan drove through the streets of Miami faster than he had ever driven before. With no regard to speed limit and only a fleeting glance for pedestrians, he made it back to his apartment in record time. 

Running to the door, he burst through it, out of breath. "Greg!" he shouted, flying through the apartment to the bedroom, where he assumed Greg was. "Greg!"

Greg looked up from his suitcase, which he was haphazardly throwing clothes into. "What do you want, Ryan?" asked Greg wearily. "We've said just about all there is to say. Now let me go with some semblance of dignity left."

Shaking his head quickly, Ryan grabbed Greg's hand and looked him in the eyes. "No, Greg, I haven't said everything I need to. So give me one more chance to say what I need to. Then you can go if you want."

Taking his hands back from Ryan, Greg crossed his arms and looked away. "You have one minute."

Ryan's eyes searched his. "I think I should start with I'm sorry. I was an ass, and I know it. And I really, truly am sorry, if I made you feel like this was no longer your home, or made you feel as if you need to return to Las Vegas." He took both Greg's hands again. "I love you, Greg, and I don't want you to go. If you left...I…I don't know what I would do. You are my life, and my heart." Ryan's voice dropped to a whisper. "I love you. Please don't leave me. Please."

Greg looked at him stoically. "Have you said what you wish to say?" At Ryan's nod, Greg continued. "Then I guess it's time to make my decision." He sighed deeply, then half-smiled at Ryan. "I love you, too, and I'm willing to try to make this work if you are."

Then he leaned over and kissed Ryan on the lips.

* * *

_**A/N:** So see, you can't hate me! Ha. I win!_


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N:** Ah, and here it is...the end. Yes, yes, I know it's sad. But the show must go on. See exteneded Author's Note below for thank-yous and more details. Usual disclaimer applies as per always. Oh, and Merry Christmas, Everyone! And now, without further ado...  
_

* * *

Chapter 13

"_Take me for what I am  
Who I was meant to be  
And if you give a damn  
Take me Baby  
Or leave me  
Take me Baby  
Or leave me"_

Greg leaned forward and kissed Ryan gently in the lips, sliding his hand behind Ryan's head to hold him closer while pushing him against the wall. Ryan kissed him back, harder and fiercer, touching Greg's cheek. Pulling away, Greg smiled hazily at Ryan. "I want you," he whispered, leaning in and kissing him again.

Though Greg had said it before, Ryan's breath still hitched when he heard those words. "Well, then," he whispered throatily against Greg's lips, "what are we waiting for? Let's go over to the bed."

Smiling, Greg pulled back and cocked his head playfully. "Why?" he asked, grinning. "The bed's got all my shit all over it. Besides, I want to take you right here and right now."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Right here? Against the wall?" he asked, kissing Greg again, ending by biting Greg's lip gently. "Forgive me for quoting Paris Hilton, but that's hot."

Raising an eyebrow as well, Greg slid his hands under Ryan's shirt and tugged it off, a smirk curving his lips. "Really? Well, I think it's gonna get a lot hotter in here." He threw Ryan's shirt across the room, musing aloud, "I wonder why we've never done this before."

Simply smiling, Ryan pulled Greg's shirt off as well. He traced Greg's scars with his pointer finger, kissing the pinnacle of them as Greg shivered. "I love you," whispered Ryan before capturing Greg's mouth with his.

"I love you, too," mouthed Greg against Ryan's mouth, his hands heading southward. Within a few seconds, both men's pants were off, pooled on the floor, completely forgotten. Greg pushed Ryan against the wall, harder, nipping at his ear before moving down to nibble his neck.

Grinning, Ryan chuckled. "I hope you know I'm going to go into work with a hickey now. Honestly, the things I sacrifice for you—" He broke off, gasping, as Greg grasped a certain part of his anatomy.

"Act now, talk later," growled Greg, shoving Ryan into the wall, hard. "I want to fuck you, not chat with you."

Ryan ran his fingernails gown Greg's back, scraping him just hard enough to make Greg wince. "Your wish is my command."

* * *

An hour later, Greg stirred and raised his head. He and Ryan lay in one giant tangle of limbs, both exhausted from their ordeal. Looking down at Ryan, Greg began laughing quietly. Ryan opened one eye. "What's so funny?" he yawned. 

"I think we may have permanently dented your wall," said Greg, grinning, as he bent to kiss Ryan's temple. "Not to mention the fact that all your neighbors probably heard you scream." He kissed Ryan again, longer this time, and deeper.

Ryan laughed and pushed him away, stretching. "You stop that, or you know what the result will be."

Grinning wickedly, Greg countered, "Maybe I want that result."

Rolling his eyes, Ryan submitted to Greg's ministrations. He smiled. "We did dent the wall, didn't we?" Looking at Greg, he, too, grinned. "I think next time, we should use my handcuffs."

"Oh, that's how you want it, hmm?" asked Greg, raising one eyebrow. "I believe we can make that accommodation." Pausing, he asked, "Where have we had sex at?"

Ryan raised both his eyebrows. "Um…the bedroom…and now against the wall of the bedroom. Why?"

Greg grinned, fiercely, wickedly and dirty. "Because I want to fuck you in every room of this house."

Grinning as well, Ryan straddled Greg. "Well, I think we can accommodate this for sure." He kissed him slowly and passionately, then stood. "I'll just go get my handcuffs, then."

Greg smiled. "Excellent," he said, lying back against the floor. "Excellent."

* * *

It was almost nine o'clock at night by the time Greg and Ryan had exhausted themselves. They lay on the couch, Ryan's head on Greg's chest and Greg's arms thrown casually around Ryan. Ryan yawned loudly and groaned. "I don't think I have ever been this sore in my life." 

Cracking one eyelid, Greg smiled like a cat that got the cream. "You liked it and you know it."

Frowning, Ryan rolled his eyes and jabbed Greg in the ribs. "Greg, I'm hungry."

Greg raised an eyebrow. "Then get off your ass and go get some food."

"But I'm naked."

Looking down at himself, Greg remarked, "And I'm not?"

Ryan just looked at him pleadingly, playing up the puppy dog eyes to the max. "Please, Greg," he said, kissing him softly on the lips.

Greg groaned and shoved Ryan away from him crossly. "Oh, fine, you big baby. I'll get you your food." His eyes softened. "Besides, you know I can't resist you when you're like this."

He rolled off the couch and padded into the kitchen. Ryan yawned again and stretched contentedly, a small smile curling the corners of his mouth. Life was good. He still had Greg, and what else did he need?

Ryan propped himself up on one elbow and raised his eyebrow as Greg strolled back into the room sans food. "Greg, I thought I asked for some food."

"And it's on its way," said Greg evenly, flopping down onto the couch. "We have basically no food in this house, so I ordered us some Chinese."

Ryan smiled and snuggled up next to Greg, resting his head on Greg's chest. "I love you," said Ryan suddenly, grabbing Greg's hand and squeezing it gently. "I just thought you should know."

"I do know," said Greg seriously, turning Ryan's head so he could look at him. "And you know I love you." His brown eyes searched Ryan's. "No matter how much we fight, or anything, I still love you, forever."

Grinning gently, Ryan kissed Greg, softly and sweetly. "I know," he said. "I know." Pausing, he added, slightly embarrassed, "And thank you for forgiving me every time I screw up and do something stupid."

"Like calling me a slut?" supplied Greg, raising an eyebrow, a small smile touching his mouth.

Nodding once, sharply, Ryan avoided looking at him. "Yeah," he said, swallowing hard. "Like that." Looking up, he searched Greg's eyes. "You have forgiven me, right? 'Cause I really am sorry. I don't…I don't know what got into me."

Greg raised an eyebrow, his face serious. "Neither do I. When you get like that, you're not the same guy I fell in love with. You're like…some stranger, somebody I've never even met before" Pausing, he added softly, "You scare me."

Ryan looked at him, shock and sadness written all over his face. "Greg, I never meant to—" he started, but Greg cut him off.

"I know," he said. "I know. But it's in those moments that I doubt every reason why I came here. It's those moments that make me want to walk, to cut and run."

Nodding, Ryan said softly, "I just hope you know that if you were to leave, I don't know what I would do. I'd be…I'd be lost without you here. Every time I think about what's to come, in five years, or in fifty, I see you."

Greg squeezed his hand. "Hey," he said gently, "I don't plan on going anywhere, alright? You're stuck with me for a long time!"

Ryan leaned in and kissed Greg hungrily. At that moment, the doorbell rang. Groaning, Greg leaned back and said wearily, "I'll get it." He grabbed a pair of his boxers that had been casually thrown on the chair and put them on before heading to answer the door.

He opened it and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Mikey!" He exclaimed. "I didn't know you worked for Ching Lee's Chinese Express."

Greg's friend Mike, the cross dresser, stood outside, grinning and wearing a skirt and polo shirt. "Well, I was between musical gigs, and I figured it's better than standing on a street corner, if you know what I mean." He gave Greg a once over and smiled widely. "My, my, Greggy, you do look good. I see you've gotten some muscle since San Fran."

"Well, you know," said Greg, grinning. "I couldn't stay a skinny, scrawny nerd forever. I had to change eventually."

Mike just grinned. "You know, with the man you are, you could get anybody. So why're you hanging around with…you know, _him_?"

Greg raised an eyebrow. "You mean Ryan? Mike, I love Ryan. I don't care about any other person."

"It's just a shame, that's all," said Mike, shaking his head. "The Greg Sanders I used to know wanted as many girls as he could get, and here he is, getting all domestic with a guy."

"Look," said Greg, beginning to get irritated. "This is how I want my life. And nothing you can say will change that."

Mike just grinned. "No, but maybe there's something I can do to change that."

He leaned in and kissed Greg, hard, just as Ryan walked in. Ryan stopped dead in his tracks. "Greg," he whispered, eyes blurring with tears.

Greg jumped away from Mike. "Ryan, look, it's not—" he started desperately, coming over to Ryan, but Ryan just backed away, eyes wide in hurt and horror.

"You said you weren't cheating on me and I believed you," said Ryan hollowly, the tears beginning to stream down his face as his anger grew. "I believed you!"

"Ryan," said Greg, softly, "Ryan, I swear to you, it is not what it looks like. I have never cheated on you, and I would never. Ryan, I love you!"

Ryan smiled bitterly and closed his eyes. "Bullshit," he said softly, then stronger, "Bullshit." He opened his eyes and stared at Greg, a cold fury settling over his face. "I stand with what I said at work. You are nothing more than a slut. Now pack up your clothes, pack up your shit, and get the hell out of my house, and get the hell out of Miami. Now."

Greg stared at him, mind racing through a thousand different ways to try and make this right and coming up empty. "Fine," he said quietly, swallowing hard. "Fine, I'm leaving, but I'm warning you, Ryan, this time I will not come back."

"Good," said Ryan coolly, and it was like a slap to Greg. "I don't want you here anymore."

Nodding curtly, Greg walked numbly into the bedroom and closed his suitcases. He slid his clothes back on from where they had fallen on the floor, and he walked back into the living room, crossing to the door. He looked back at Ryan, eyes swimming with a hundred different emotions. "I will still love you, Ryan," he whispered. "Forever."

With that, he left, closing the door softly behind him. Ryan sank to the floor and began to sob, holding his head in his hands. Greg was really gone.

"_Guess I'm Leaving  
I'm Gone!"_

* * *

_**A/N(Part 2):** Ah, yes, now everyone hates me, I know. Good news is, there will be a sequel. Yay! It's tentatively titled "Closer to our Graves". Look for the first chapter to come out sometime in January._

_ And now, thank you to everyone who has reviewed: Beaglicious, csiwolfe08, HauntedPast, conformityissuicide, Jodine16, Ascahil, Shadowfax27, SweetLittleCat, kate-kat-bar, Rum.on.the.Drums, adorkablecsifan, Wolflady, ann, Danishreader, Sara7174, Dark Angel's Blue Fire, Kitty, Princessa, insanechildfanfic, Faye, mysterious sadness, Kate, and Little Artemis. You guys made this happen! Thank you!_

_ And thanks to everyone for reading! Love to you all!  
_


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